Issue > Poetry
Mike Lewis-Beck

Mike Lewis-Beck

Mike Lewis-Beck writes and works in Iowa City. He has published in Albatross, Ann Arbor Review, Blood Lotus Journal, Chariton Review, Poetry Quarterly, New Writer, Wapsipinicon Almanac and Wild Violet Magazine, among other venues. His novel, Death Walks the Riviera, recently appeared with Catstep Press. His essay, “My Cherry Orchard in Iowa,” was a ‘Notable Essays of 2010’ in Best American Essays 2011, and his poem, “Wailing Bridge of Lisbon,” was a 2010 Editor’s Choice in The Penwood Review.

Biker Chick

His big red Indian cadillacs into town
from fort road.
The low-ride barely spares white-leather saddle-bag fringes.
A front wheel-rod gleams steely as tire black-marks the way.
Like a felled warrior, his machine drops silent before an Esso pump.
A girl grease monkey approaches.

Gas?
Fill'er up, high test.
Her fingers turning she unscrews a knurled metal cap from a straddled chrome tank.
Goin' far?
Nap' town, back way, highway four.
Careful 'round 38th street, she grins.
Replacing the metal cap, she tucks a chestnut curl back into her blue bandanna.
Wanna ride?

You kiddin? Sure.
Shirley—that's her name on the striped coveralls hurled at an empty oil drum—
tosses over a leg and mounts behind.
He kicks down and the Indian roars.
She digs her hard hands into his belly, leans forward and rides his back.
The needle wipes away ninety, cornfields a blur of green-spiked fences.

They slice open the road.

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