Just Another Knight On Straight Street

Rico dropped by

a new lover

tattooed on his forearm.

that makes five memories

and a few bottles of blue black ink.

he offered some owl feathers to trade-

said he shot the bird himself.

the turquoise he wanted to swap was expendable,

owl feathers aren’t.

Rico didn’t hang around very long-

sped off on his Harley-

thirsty July leaves scattered.

telephone pole on the corner didn’t blink

when Rico crashed it.

orange fire

sirens

screams

gasoline and burning owl feathers.