My Biker Chick

Tired of being single, I looked to settle down, find myself a wife
Little did I know I was in for the wildest ride of my life

Met this girl at a bar, man, she looked swell
Seemed single and ready to mingle, but who could tell

I mustered up the courage and asked her her name
We spoke a bit, I asked her out and yeah, she was game

I dressed up to the nines and drove up to her door
Showed up in my conservative sedan, hi, you ready to go

There she was, leather jacket, helmet in hand
Cast an eye at my car, said that’s too boring and bland

So I hopped aboard her fatboy, shiny and full of chrome
And off we went down the highway, vroom, vroom, vroom

As she picked up speed, the exhaust going putt, putt, putt
I shook my head, o boy, what was I thinking, am I a mutt

We hooked up with her gang, all big, hairy dudes
Metalheads and beer buffs with aggressive attitude

That’s only the first, I thought, there’ll be many more
But nothing prepared me for what else was in store

She was a gal, right, so I tried treating her doll-ish
Gifted her perfume, she preferred the smell of grease & polish

I’d take her shopping for heels and jewelry & rings
She liked looking for boots & chains and those kind of things

Soon, it started getting much too tough
I wanted soft and gentle, she loved it rough

She loved carbs (-ohydrates and -urettor)
And not removing her foot from the accelerator

While I was the opposite, quite a wimp
Staid and afraid, her style I’d totally crimp

I had dreams of someone feminine, who’d be my kids’ mother
But my biker babe was butch and grungy, quite the other

I was looking for the wings and white of an angel
Whereas she wore only black, an angel from hell

She believed in diesel, denims and dust
No trace of love, it was all raw lust

I’d fallen for her green eyes, but now all I could see
Were tattoos and piercings, more turn off than pretty

It wasn’t working, it was time to part, I said it’s the road or me
No big surprise, she chose to be with her darn Harley

So I guess I’ll have to find myself another bachelorette
Preferably someone more comfortable driving an Italian scooterette

As a fan of the Marissa Bergen brand of humour in poetry –
I hope this appeals to her funny bone πŸ™‚
Hey, Marissa, cheers!



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