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Day: May 3, 2022

11/11/06

Listen my listeners
And you shall all hear,
Of a weekend I filled
With Harley’s and beer.

November eleventh,
And seventy degrees,
The southerly wind
Brought a warm gentle breeze.

Ninety-four octane,
I topped off the tank,
Then into the saddle
All cozy I sank.

The ports all injected
Directly with fuel;
No warm-up, no waiting
For a hesitant mule.

Out of the driveway
And into the street,
Through every last gear
That I shift with my feet.

Through corridors painted
In the colors of fall,
I followed the urge
Of primordial call.

I rode ‘til I stopped
At a tavern I’d spot,
Imbibing the spirit,
Both liquid and not.

The flavoring local
Of stories I’d hear,
As I rested a moment
While drinking a beer.

Then back to the steed
And its cylinders twin,
And encased in my helmet,
A happy man’s grin. 
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