In the moment

 B–Wild-- On the showroom floor of a small motorcycle shop where Main Street transitions into Fairview, a five year old girl was hoisted onto the seat of a Triumph dirt bike. She leaned her body over the gas tank as she had seen her father do. Gripping the handlebars, her hand twisted the right grip to full throttle. …braap…braap…braap… Sprays of spit misted her lips as she raced the stationary motorcycle around an imagined track. A few feet away, ex-racers and hangers-on congregated around the desk of their tobacco-pipe smoking chief. Pipe and cigarette smoke mingled overhead as they drank coffee and bragged of past glories. Their words floated up into the blue haze and beyond, fortifying the rafters of Buzz Chaney’s Triumph motorcycle shop. Alvin “Buzz” Chaney in front of his shop in Boise, Idaho. (c.1950)      My father was one of those ex-racers, the little girl, was me. Most of my days before first grade were spent like this. First, a short stack of hotcakes dri...

 B singular-- (background music for poem: begin with Horse With No Name by America , the La La parts, then hit shuffle.) Glorious thrusters hiss through thin air as a red-faced tot behind, kicks a tizzy-fit on a maiden economy power trip. Shuttling at capacity, crawling and conducted, destinations controlled. It’s palpable one, or many, needs a shower trip. Even keeled, chugging towards the horizon, never acquired, bundled bald and blue-haired directed activities every hour, trip. Serving number thirty two, I’m one hundred and one in the que, a din like gregarious locusts, swarm-in-from-out-of-towners trip. Looking left, then right. Diana, que of one, in a mod tin Lizzy beast, chewing breezy byways, destination unknown horsepower trip . * Ghazal poetry defined.

 B–You -- Conditioned to care about things that do not matter    unless they matter to you W omen    Our toughest critic is you She would look nice in a dress    Her skirt is too short She is too old to dress like that    Her dated clothing makes her look old She would look cute if she cut her long hair    Her short hair makes her look like a boy She would be pretty if she put on make up    Her face is hidden under all that gunk She's too fat to wear form fitting clothes    Her baggy clothes make her look frumpy Built for style not built for speed    high heels, wonder bras layer upon layer of migraine-causing fragrant  beauty products If she wore it the first time it was style    Fashion police dictate She's not allowed to wear it     When it comes back around Who is she trying to impress?    Who does she think she is? tom-boy, girly-girl, plain jane, wall flower, sl...