Jesus Never Rode a Harley

high school boys, preppies,
greasers & jocks,
young punks, artists & hipsters,
driving fast cars,
motorcycles & pick-up trucks
explore boundaries,
test limits & color outside the lines

feral youth on the prowl,
adolescents racing
to shed their virginity,
a noxious alchemy
of teenage counter-culture fusion

flutter like moths
in search of firelight
a crazy odd collage
of shade & color,
a salty dialogue, peppered
with four letter words

the outlaw, the outcast
& the outlandish,
rebellious, independent,
something wicked,
something American,
standing still,
they beckon for the open road

they are the wild flowers filled
with the funk of cigarette smoke
mixed with the stench of stale beer
dressed in only skivvies,
slipping, sliding & tumbling,
hacking, slashing & slicing,
through the jungle & jumble

no past, no future, only now
the freedom to be wild
& the freedom to be left alone
suffering from the unbearable
heat of being cool

taking a wild rock & roll ride
with psychedelics
scattered
like gravel on the highway
as the broken white lines
blend into one

the string of lies tangled
with knots of truth
a biological function,
a chemical reaction,
a mathematical equation,
outlaw cool & offbeat wild

do you feel out of place?