Sturgis August 2020
Jul 2, 2022
Poetry
Sturgis — August 2020
Beer by the bucket
Bars jampacked
Buzzing tattoo parlors
Bands playing bass to bass
Bikes on Main Street revving
Bare faces and bountiful beards.
Before he left — “I’m not sappy, if I catch it, I’ll die happy.”
Back at home — to calm his croaky
Breaths, she sidles next to him and his oozing tat of death.