Biker Bar

Smiles hugging leather bodies,
ignoring placid interlude.
Who leers at merriment?
Boobs and buns drink
sunshine's perfect height for sunglasses.
Latitude of benches reach
higher than asphalt dancers.
Beer listing to the music and sky,
winds rip it write.
Grooving alone in a crowd
with guitars inconsequential lovers,
holding only strangers
in the dark without the moon.
Drunken, romantic autonomy
leaves lips never kissed,
an onus of the gong for departure.