A Restless Night

An endless night in mid-July.
But restful sleep? It’s much too hot;
And then, this constant nightly noise!
When will these fiends find a new spot?

My desert homestead is a hub,
‘round which careening bikers spin,
Much like that planet Saturn’s rings,
Except that bikes make much more din.

The hours are filled with howl and hiss,
Fumes expelled from Triumph, Harley;
Led by their Hexenmeister named . . .
Yes, you guessed it, “Evil Charley”

Who leads those unkempt hellions in
This midnight’s never-ending ride.
Exhaust drifts through my window now—
Oh, no! here comes that Charley’s bride;

Miss Becky now is on her way
To join the coven, add her share
Of trouble to the boiling pot,
Or caldron—with much more to spare.

Horse groom by day, but comes the night,
She dons her leathers, heavy boots,
Becomes her master’s acolyte
And does her wheelies, whoops and hoots.

Just one more stunt and then she stops,
Now brazenly waves at my sight;
She’d caught me gazing through the screen—
While my dear spouse flicked on the light.

Oh—I forgot—that I’m unclad—
Tomorrow, sure as blazing fire,
I’ll send Miss Becky on her way,
And then put up a fence: barbwire.