I Wish I Had A Harley

I wish I had a Harley,

all black and silver chrome,

I’d park it in the drive

outside my modest little home.

I don’t want it to ride,

I just want it in my drive

as a symbol to the world

that I’m still very much alive.

You see I’ve reached that tender age

where a ponytail seems a good idea,

a tattoo would be cool

or six studs embedded in my ear.

I don’t want to be good

I want to be bad and nifty

as I dream of my new Harley -

like me pushing fifty.

So don’t ask me “where’s your bike”

as I stand here in my leather -

it’s not for practical biking

or keeping out inclement weather -

you see, the stumbling block to all my plans

is that Harley’s cost a packet -

so if I can’t afford the bike

then I’ll have the bloody jacket.