i have felt
the dusk of life
scrape deeply in
my skin's surface
as death attempted
his harrowing blow
when i fell off my bike
on rugged pavement

blood streaked sideways
on highway eight
like a crayon rubbed hard
on an old tombstone
i felt my eyes
begin to weep
my consciousness sank
into the deep unknown

life did not flash
before my eyes
it filled all my senses
in a mashed potato blur
i rocked old stunts,
and not just on bikes
i also remembered
the stunts of life

my fork launched sick wheelies
over grandma's apple pie
my ears did a stoppie
as uncle joe's stereo played a zz top song
memories gunned sharp corners
through my bleeding head
like bikes in a thrilling race
as i orbited death

i soon came to
on the highway's side
memories still swirled
in the robin's egg sky

but i knew i was alive

the mild might
of sleeping giants
hinted at in the cracks
of the desert dirt

the arizona air
whistles aggresive tunes
as the wind whips up
the rider's shirt

a dust storm blights
the greying horizon
as the rider's eyes
beam a wild glance

he licks his chops
and kicks the kickstand
guns it fervorously
to his heart beat's dance

the rider wipes
his moistened brow
his sweat skirts through
the glimmering air
a multitude of miniature rainbows
sparkle in his labor's dew
stunts of light refraction
rocked in synch with
stunts of dirtbike acceleration

the sun floats by in a
soupy bleached sky
as stunts are cut through
the fresh surface
of the awkening
arizona soil

the motor's many
rumbles crumble
the desert's pebbles
they shake like
pepper on a hot pan
coming off a hard stoppie
the wheel hits the surface
rubber sautees
applause sizzles
the recipe is complete