tires, chrome, windows flashing by
and the purring of the engine
I have driven into a beehive
with my motorcycle!—life!
I slant to the side, right and left
the wind slaps my face, my chest
my face feels like a mashed mug.
I see my way ahead, turns, curves
cars and boulevards, bridges
grass, streets that—that’s all but flashes….
My steel, chrome and rubber horse
is burning up its internal guts,
its pumping pistons, is like a drug
as I dodge, and stretch the white
lines on the street into one—;
the cars, and trucks…one by one
by one by one, I sail around them
like a bullet, over and over I
escape, jumping the corners and
leaping the curves…running, darting,
spurting… through elephants
on all sides of me; it’s all in the motor
the wheels, the dizziness, the high,
the legs and arms, and eyes, all in the
reflexes, the breathing…smells;
its hot motor wants to fly… I have
a freedom an inflamed spirit
I hear nothing but everything
it is all one… these sounds,
one big plunge, thrust—
into a nervous heart that
keeps pumping and pumping
passing and passing—(and if
I stop, I have to rewind…)
and dodging the wind, the cars
and the sharks, and the birds,
and the dogs and the figures
figures, figures, figures,
people, people…poles and
and empty lots, then
I become exhausted with life!
Now what?
No: 1922 7-27-2007 Moving and condensed poetry, poetry that captures the movement and spirit of the theme is seldom done, and can only be done by someone who has experienced the motion, the condensed actions, and here we have a trip around the city on my motor cycle, I have not driven one for a while but like the poet Juan Parra Del Riego, enjoyed it when I did and when I do. And so I dedicated this poem to Him. Inspired by Juan Parra del Riego. This style of poetry has several rhythms to it, called Polirritmo.