Harleycrit

At night

When I am working

Screaming

And gunshots

And thumping

Pull me from the typer

And make me cringe

It’s a bass thump in a seventies car

Going down the street

And peeling out

Into nowhere

And it makes me grit my teeth in anger

Down the rue

Two blocks down

The Outsider motorcycle gang

Drink into the night

And mount their cycles

To tear off into the main street

My house is on

At four in the morning

It is loud

Deafening

And scary

But it doesn’t bother me

At all

Maybe it’s because

When I pass the Outsider house

There’s a FUCK YOU sculpture

Of a raised middle finger

But the bearded bastards

Always say hi when I wave

When the guys who thump past

In their rap fueled shitboxes

Always spit when I wave

At them

But either way

It’s probably

A pretty white thing

In a black neighborhood

And I don’t know if it’s racist

But I do know that it is

True