Stars and stripes & a purple ponytail
jiggling up and down on the winding
road fur-lined in Douglas Firs and
pocket-bullys straining on chains. 

Bark Bark says the dog 
and the woman stretches her hand out 
leaning just a little, tilting the whirling 
motorcycle machine, she touches the chain-fence. 
At high-speed her purple fingernails 
bounce off links like a spatula caught in the mixer 
grinning as the dogs fly from end to end 
tongues like saucers dripping from mouths. 

Dirt kicks up and grass flies 
as she makes her way back on the road. 

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