An Absolute Zero

Perfect riding scores on the Motorcycle Basic Rider Course are zeros. It’s like golf; low scores are better. Mostly the perfect scores are a matter of luck. A few are Absolute Zeros.


Arrive on time with confidence, it seems;
Thoughts of her, no worries in his dreams-
road rules and controls, he’s mastered all,
Attention span is strained; a pool hall.

Dismounting from his ride the pipes they gleam,
Quiet now the pistons rest their scream-
Takes a seat in class amongst the new,
His questions of the course, a very few.

While others halt and stall upon concrete,
He smoothly glides and turns aplomb replete-
Each maneuver challenges, but not for him;
Quietly perfection sings it’s hymn.

Evaluation time the second day,
classmates fret about their scores; dismayed
Authority his ride, delivers absolute-
Perfect marks; and girlfriend quite cute.


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One Response to “An Absolute Zero”

  1. nature photo Says:

    Boy Racer 1960’s style

    What drives the rider to exceed, to go with hair ablaze and senses straining. To challenge mortality in its face, with defiance and naivety. What realisation, yet latent, provokes, to join the wind in its unrestraint. To fly on thundering wheels into an archway of the night, illuminated – these darkly clad riders of the highway.

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