Bingo’s Poetry from Slate

Bingo is the Rebel Wayfarers’s resident poet, and for Slate he put pen to paper about the motorcycle he first saw outside of Jackson’s bar in Chicago, the day Andrew Jones first came to town, long before Andy became Slate.


The Indian

Cherry red
Virgin white
Fringe on the seat
Chrome so bright.

Unbelieved, the beauty
Unbelieved, how right,

Seen in the shadowy glare
Of the parking lot sodium light.

Riderless but steady
Patient waiting now an art,

Found desire ponder
Manmade love, mechanical heart.

Bags packed
Belted tight
Key to the slot
Soul is light.

Unrelieved, the distance
Unrelieved, past miles,

Partners’ secret signals
Lessen love’s absent wiles.

Boots shuffle up, then down
Hearts pump their beated measure,

Fast paced yearning
Caress of breeze’s pleasure.

Copyright © 2014 – MariaLisa deMora