Bill Davis is a retired English teacher. He has traveled extensively and spent a couple of years right here in Alaska. Now in Idaho Bill rides and writes, when he's not fishing. The following two pieces are original, fresh and entertaining. I loved them both, and I suspect you will as well.

The Road

Bill "Uglicoyote" Davis

Miles and miles of
Miles and miles

Big sweeping curves,
Tight hairpins and mountain switchbacks
Long straight-aways

Miles of corn, wheat, soybeans and sunflowers
Miles of pine, spruce, redwoods and cedars
Miles of prairie grass, sagebrush, mesquite

Narrow canyons open to wide vistas
Spectacular sunsets
Soft, ghostly coastal fog
Rolling into the rising sun

Idaho wind,
Nebraska heat,
Iowa rain,
Cold at 10,000 feet-- July in Wyoming's Snowy Range

Oceans, lakes,
Ponds, streams, and those rivers-
Those rivers.
Crossing the Snake, Madison, Salmon
The Platte, the Missouri
The Big Muddy

The rivers of concrete, asphalt, gravel

U.S. 101, 20, 30, 66, 26, The Lincoln Highway,
America's Roads,
State roads, County roads
Roads which appear only
On the map of the mind.
Blue Highways,
Highway blues

Riding the soul of America,
Riding my soul
Riding those miles and miles of
Miles and miles.

Leather, Chrome, and Steel

By Bill "Uglicoyote" Davis

In Blackfoot, Idaho one night
He walked, lonely, out of a bar
A woman sat there on the curb
Strumming her big guitar

Is that your bike? she asked him,
I love leather, chrome and steel."

Hop on, he said as he settled in.
I know just how you feel.

She swung that guitar across her back
And hopped onto his sled.
Where ya going? he asked as she got on board
Outta here, was all she said.

She wrapped her arms around him
They headed south to the Utah line.
He rode hard into the desert night
The big twin singing fine.

The finally pulled down off the road
He took out his old bedroll
And there beneath the desert stars
She did things that moved his soul.

The next morning when she shot him
As he lay bleeding in the sand
She looked into his fading eyes
She reached out and held his hand

I don't like men, she told him
But I like leather, chrome and steel
My first old man was a biker
A no good, cheatin' heel.

So I'll take your bike, if you don't mind.
But I'll write for you a song.
About your love of ridin' in the wind
And all the women who done you wrong.

He closed his eyes and she rode off,
Left his body behind that hill.
She rode on south towards Mexico
I'll bet she's out there still

So. if some night you leave a bar
And lonely is how you feel,
Beware a woman with big guitar
Who loves leather, chrome, and steel