It's Motorcycle Safety Awareness Day.
Let's look at the representation of escape.
. . .
No need for that, let's make it real.
Spirit, by the jam jar full, tapped off from every optic.*
Recreational pharmaceuticals, by the armful, who knows with what it's cut.
Small time gangsters, by the pool table full, take their cut.
Tap room altercations with aggressive giants, the losers win each conflict.
Dance barefoot, crunch shards as a curtain flaps through the jagged window.
High risk, low rent, bottom of the pile.
Nothing to lose.
Hollow eyed, with random, meaningless malice.
Rip it down and start again.
A psychedelic reverie of naked, blood spattered axe waving.
. . .
Or maybe just go for a slow ride followed by a quiet night in with the Muppets.**
* Imagine Lautrec's 'Earthquake', only by dimension and quantity more so.
** No motorcycles were harmed in the making up of this, it isn't 1968, there is no crash into a truck.
For official/internal use only:
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