the motor purrs in idle anticipation
i rev it with consternation
dirt kicks out the back
i gun it and never look back

i paint an arrow across the land
an arrow of dirt and sand
always pointing forward
always pointing onward

my thick tire treads
make a dotted line
and the intensity of
my motor's gunning
cuts arizona in half

the smell of gas
a wild wish
inexperienced rider
flops like a fish

he will be bruised
battered
heckled
scarred
he will see the ups and downs of plywood ramps
and piled high dirt yards

and when his blood has dried a thousand times
and the dirt flaked off his fifteenth fractured helmet
he will, in hard earned wisdom, command cool stunts
and collect the claps of an impressed audience
in his ego's vest pocket

the mechanic crossed his arms
and kicked a notch in the soil
he was stumped by the puddle of oil

the dirt bike sputtered
and the mechanic muttered
an epitaph to the dying yamaha:

she was a sweet bike
did some fine stunts
and though rocks dinged her up
and rust crept into her core
she gunned like a roar
she gunned like a roar


and the dead yamaha
twisted and shriveled
choked with vines of rust
clanged into the scrap pile
and returned to dust

a bumbling rumbling

like a sleeping god's mumblings

creeps into the arizona void

a humbling gunning

as the motor starts running

pervades the arizona void

a slinking sunrise

strikes the rider's red eyes

as he attacks the arizona void

a stunt grunts

in the loosely laid ruts

of the dirt of the arizona void

what is in the composition of a high dirt pile?
dirt for sure, but what comes between the dirt?
specks of air?
the sound of a motor's flare?
the smell of gas fumes?
night crawler worms?

or is it an empty void,
waiting to be filled with more dirt?

gnarled gasoline tendrils
crept into my nostrils
as i filled the tank to the top
mild mildew missiles
shot through the old garage
as i dripped the last drop

cool beams of air
shot across the morning soil
wiping up the morning dew
from the widely dispersed ferns
and a hollow hum rung out
in the misty distance
as the first rider of the day
hit the first stretch of trail

it used to be that dirt bikes didn't ride
they were but a twinkle in an inventors eye
the soil was clean of wheeled stunts
and the air untouched by the motors grunts
in this time before dirt bike feats
dirt was kicked up by horses feet

behold the original horse power:
gunning through the forested trails
swiping their straw-like tails
preparing the world
for future dirt based tales

mild dirt slopes cover the environment
pristine soil untouched by dirt bike interactions
like a powder day on the skiers slope
the course awaits its first rider

sticks and stones
are often thrown
by dirt bikes in the forest

as echoes kick
from stunts so sick
the dirt rains down before us

a swell of rumbles
bumble in the baking air
corrosion clutters the track
as the dirt bike sheds its rusty hair

stunts accumulate
in the whetted world
riders come and go
dirt kicks up
and drips back down
and settles on ground below

though over the years
dirt bikes will change
in color and shape
sound and spirit
one thing remains the same:

a twist of a wrist
with a clenched fist
will always ignite
the motor's flame

malleable ground muddies
as rain plip plops on the brittle dirt
the engine's wail echoes wetly
the rider guns with mirth

the motor sucks up air

and pops out explosions

the tires turn on an axis

and pop out dirt crud

gravity pulls it all along

and i realize in the moment

life is like a dirt bike

that is shooting toward the mud

a stunt is an accumulation
of scientific interactions
and vertical excursions

vrum, vrum
dirt bike
under the sun
tck tck tck
engine click
bzzzzzrah!

parabolic surfaces
paved in dirt
carry my dreams
to the whispering air

rotation abounds
in the blustery mist
as sick stunt auras
blow through my hair

i shot stern glances
across the packed stadium
and gunned great distance
through the beer soaked air

a hundred cameras flashed
like lightning in succession
as i soared toward the concession
stand, feet kicked out in the air

and as many motors hummed
an immaculate chorus
i landed my stunt
with a craftsman's care

he rode down the road
as rad stunts roared
and raw dirt clouds
plumed hard in the sky

gunning fierce as a fist
the rider was pissed
as high degree wheelies
kicked fate in the eye

spiraling down
the muddy mountainside
a dirt bike rocks
gravitational stunts
and as the rider
topples over the front
a scream is heard
from the muddy mountainside

heavy stunts shoot across the soil
a red helmet reflects the sun light
blue jeans are stained brown with dirt delight

i got food poisoning from bad thai
it made me retch, made me hallucinate...
distorted dirt bikes swirled in my eyes
as my stomach did wheelies on my face

as the poison in my stomach
mixed the real with the fake
my guts hit ramps
with a stabbing ache

the evacuation sounded like
a motor's strain
it was then i understood
a dirt bikes pain

for six hours i fluctuated
between dirt bike and man
alternating between
two wheels and two hands

i retched and i gunned
spitting dirt and phlegm
cursing the thai
and all of thaiwan

but after a while
the pain went away
the wheels became hands
and hands they did stay

for a while i was mad
about the bad food
but as i reflected
i traded in my mood

for all of the pain
and rhea of diar
i finally experienced
the dirt bike's fire

so if you ever eat
some poisonous thai
and get horribly sick
with arrhea of di

and vomit and visions
of dirt bikes galore
remember my friend
an end is in store

just tighten your helmet
and rock some big stunts
kick out the thai food
from back and in front

and if your big stunts
get particularly lush
grace the handle
with a courtesy flush

winding dirt based trails
prevail into the distance
fervid gunning riders
make speed
their only mission
no wheelies
no other stunts
only speed
on this dangerous course
a scene of dirt bike racers
gunning with maximum force

huge revving
scoops silence from the canyon
and deposits it to distant lands
this new noise simmers
shaking rocks and dirt
from the salty cliffs
down into the eyes of
the giants of dirt bike lore

the giants
they wake from their steady sleep
and wipe away the debris
and climb to their feet
and climb to their dirt bikes
and they gun it hard
joining the chorus
of huge revving

with their combined revving
the dirt bike masses
shake the canyon
down to its bones
and fill the earth
with dirt bike spirit

a dirt bike passed my window
sputtered loud on the paved streets
it was cold and wet that day
a bad day for dirt bike feats
as it sputtered into the distance
rain gathered on the pane
i took a nap and dreamed
of doing dirt bike feats again

hectic dirt based stunts
spin like spinning tops
on malleable ground
a careful ballet
of danger
and gunning
and cunning
painting a brown tornado
in the temperate air

rippling dirt waves
cut patterns in the mist
wild velvet sunset
paints silence on the mess
dirt bike horizontal
still warm
without momentum
monumental dirt bike crash
one thousand miles
from anything

valves churn
with force
27 horse
dirt burn

wild wheel
jet hard
dirt yard
stunt squeal

sick trick
handle twist
dirt mist
runs thick

bright day
hot air
muddy hair
right way

ashen ground

crystal sky

motors ring out

like church bells

in the blistering contrast

wild clouds form shapes of riders past

water vapor stunts

rock across the sky

time flies

as dirt bikes fly

twenty dirt bike riders
gunning in a line
tilling barren ground
as the dirt rips through the sky

the air is rough with roaring

as twenty dirt bikes tear along

the ground is fresh with tire tracks

the dirt bikes sing their song

twenty dirt bike riders

gunning in a pack

the dirt fades out behind them

there is no going back

steep obstacles
fill the path
of dirt bike determination
horsepower gallops through the motor,
and escapes with rumbling neighs
gunning it astutely
the rider challenges the obstacles
he completes the leaps
like an astute horseback rider
and returns the dirt bike to its stable
where he feeds it a gasoline reward

proud arizona dirt
spread thick across the land
the earth coughs
and birds fly
dirt bikes fly
and the riders cough
gunning fast across the land
proud arizona dirtbike

ramps, ramps, ramps
pointing high into the air
plywood, nails, and dirt
escalating me to new heights
momentum builds
as i gun it with focus
i hit the ramps and soar
painting arcs of dirt delight

the dirt bike sweeps
the dusty ground
with crusty wheels
it spits deep brown
the grace of gunning
curls through the air
a salient squeal
dirt in my hair
i rev the gas
the motor purrs
sick stunts abound
the hot wind whirs
i rock the course
and land the stunts
but deep inside
i'm all alone...

wild elegance
tears across
arizona sunshine
smooth shifting
engine growls
hot air
spews across
open road

rip deep stunts
in summertime dirt
gun it hard
as spokes rumble
a succession of stunts
in summertime dirt
radiate like crop circles

gun it
gun it
part the fog
impart the air
with petroleum smog
the fumes of life
of dirt bike strife
i hit the ramp
and soar with
the dirt bike
gods

starlight flickers across the sky

dirt trickles hard across the floor

a smirk grins across the rider's face

deep stunts
ripping hard through
the construction paper countryside
a pint sized dirt bike
squeals as it tears across the fake land
its tiny motor gunning it like a mouse
the dirtbike leaves a scented marker trail of brown
as it advances to the edge of the cardboard universe
puffs of cotton smoke are gluesticked to the wheelied tire
a diorama of dirtbike essence

steed with two wheels

growls humbly

in the morning luster

as the grooves in my boots

clench hard to the dirt bike's body

i flick my wrist

like a piano player

in a soft passage

and my mellow gunning it

slinks through the valley

waking bird and beast

a mellow prelude

to the growing day

thick dirt crunches in the morning mist

her wild eyes shoot a glare at the daunting ramp

she accelerates with gusto

trumps the ground

the distant mountains echo with the sounds of gunning it

as the dirtbike rumbles fast

she rocks a deep landing

and she can hear the thump echo

the mountains, her audience, send their approval with massive claps

sole dirtbike but no rider

no rider but the dirtbike's soul

with humanity gone,

she rides, still

fat smoke gusts through the air

a spinning motion

rubber on soil

the ramp gets bigger

in the eye of the tire

now

rubber on plywood

the plywood creaks

the rider guns it

fat smoke sprays out the back

rubber on air

sick air is gotten

rubber thumps back on dirt

the fat smoke clears

and the rider guns around

to do it all again

dirt bike in the road

spinning sick and hard wheelies

japanese rider

a bird tweets hard in the morning dew
i put on my riding gloves and go out the screen door
straddling the blue yamaha bike, i hit the gas
kicking dirt into the morning dew

morning dew

receptacle of beauty

whether kicked up dirt or a hard bird's tweet

or the sound of my gunning it

or the rumble of tires roaring

you suck it up

like a little tape recorder

only to be eaten

by the hungry sun

the air pulsates with hard rumbles

deep in a sunny saturday afternoon

i put my helmet on

its dark visor clouding out the sun

and i kick the kickstand loose

kicking up minimal amounts of dirt

but a foreshadow of things to come

mounting the bike

i gun it staunchly

and blast through the arizona dirt

my pursuer rumbling nearer

even as i gun it harder

deep in a sunny saturday afternoon

the chase goes on,

the gap gets smaller,

until finally

i can see my pursuer's face

with wrinkled eyes and pale skin

he winks at me

winking hard

a ghost of things to come

the chase goes on,

the gap gets smaller,

but like mathematical concepts

it never closes

just getting smaller and smaller

into infinity

i can see my pursuers face

in forever increasing clarity

its minuscule details

winking harder

deep in a sunny saturday afternoon

the air pulsates with hard rumbles

deep in a sunny saturday afternoon

so many sick wheelies

zig zagging through the graveyard

ghosts of riders past

doing deep stunts

as the moon glows hard

in the brown arizona sky

the morning soil is cold

and the souls of riders past

end their wheelies

and whisper off into the darkness

faintly gunning it

as the sun peeks its head up

i got a fortune cookie

the other day

it said

"you will gun it hard"

history repeats

as i kick the kickstand out

and shoot away from the chinese restaurant

with daunting speed

gunning it hard

to the smell of pork fried rice

and the hue of sunset

dirt bike

what is in a name

dirt bike

an eternal flame

dirt bike

seven in a line

dirt bike

a race through time

i gun the dirt bike

and hit the dirt

with racing speed

dirt bike

is all i need

the bike spits in my face

not from hate

but from gunning hard

i taste the soil

like sugar on my lips

a dichotomy of sweetness and grit

my heart swims hard

as i make love to

the dirt bike's soul

the dark dirt flies hard into the air

flaking off as i put

pedal to the metal

with clenched hands

i ride hard

ride hard

ride fast

into the ground

dig down

to the core

of the dirt bike

depths

the dirt bike is a shovel

if you gun it right

kicking up dirt,

it will draw you down

for weeks on end

i've seen the bottom

where dirt bike growls

are reduced to murmurs

and the earth's mantle

becomes the dirt bike's

final grave

ride hard

ride fast

into the ground

dig down

wicked wheelie

spinning hard

the rider wobbles

regains control

the wheelie ends

the crowd growls

it was alright

not great

shame until

another day

flipping

spinning

out

of

control

a hard landing

a broken bone

she lays on her side

idle

purring

a dirt bike

the engine's heat

soothes my broken bone

engine roars

like a hawk

the meaning of life

in one cylinder

or less

a vapor trail

of dirt

i gun it

two dirt bikes in the distance

like blazing bumble bees

toiling for honey

the honey is dirt

and the sweet dirt

sticks

like

honey

dirt across my face

i ride hard

riding all day

toward destination: unknown

blistering arizona

i'll ride for you, i'll

kill for you

every day

so long as the victim is dirt

flying through the air

a dirt bike

it's petroleum wings

shimmer in the dusty air

the driver guns it

and lands in the dirt

the wheel kicks up cracked mud

and the crowd cheers

just another day

at the dirt bike track

they say you can take

the bike out of the dirt

but you can't take

the dirt out of the bike

i took the bike out of the garage

and rode into the arizona sunrise

the crisp soil

breaks in half

the engine roars

the kick stand

is kicked

this is dirt biking

at its finest hour

today

a rainbow of dirt

tomorrow

a rainbow of dirt

yesterday

...silence

my dirt bike was broke

and now it is fixed

back at work:

it kicks up the arizona soil

dirt bike

in your face

in the world's face

are we ready?

ride and find out!

...only some were ready

george washington rode a dirt bike

napoleon rode a dirt bike

tim allen rode a dirt bike

i ride a dirt bike

my dirt bike

across the face of time

the sign says

NO DIRT BIKE RIDING

but fuck that

i ride my dirt bike

and that's that

kicking up layers of dirt

into authority's face

i rode my dirt bike forever

to the end of time

and then some more

long after it ran out of gas

the momentum carried me down-

down the dirt bike trail

and long after the engine fails

i still ride my dirt bike-

down the dirt bike trail

under the sky

a faint rumble

not an earthquake

not a big truck

nor has thunder struck

but

a dirtbike

is playing thunderstruck

by ACDC

and cruising fast

the wind blows on

the drivers teeth

beneath the visor

and her mouth

is dry

and a rainbow of dirt

kicks the arizona sky

awesome dirtbike

taking names

kicking asses

and going fast

fill it with gas

do a stoppie on main street

then smoke a big cigarette

a rainbow of brown dirt

and grey smoke

fills main street

the dirt bike shines

in the sweet moon glow

and rumbles

in the sweet darkness

they say the kickstand

is the dirt bike's soul

a sweet soul pressed

in

the sweet

dirt

bad ass dirt bike

like seriously

bad fuckin ass

top of the pile

the bad fuckin ass pile

because it clumb

all the way up

i want this dirt bike

to feel its strength

in my waning thighs

and sing its song

with a wrist twist

vroom vroom

bad fuckin ass

it sings into

the...

roaring

dirt bikes

they hit the start line

with diesel prejudice

and gun it up

over to the finish

the winner's fist

pumps through

the baking arizona air

a little boy runs fingers

through his mullet

and wants to be

a winner someday

like the fist pumping winner

of today's dirt bike race

so much depends upon

the red dirt bike

glazed with miller high life

beside the white audience

sick ass dirt bike

kickin up dirt

it forms a dirt rainbow in the sky

thirteen eagles cry

and the american flag

stays bless'd

for another day