i was jealous, but i don’t know why br perhaps it was because i felt emasculated, br picturing you on the back of that crotch rocket br tightly hugging his denim-clad middle-aged belly trying br to hang on as he whisked you thru the streets of town br with the wind in your hair and a laugh on your tongue br br no doubt he fantasized as you both rode br about how he wished you would straddle his br fat waist like you straddled that wide seat br riding him and laughing and whipping your hair br like the winds against his hairy chest, br tracing his tattoos with your slender fingers br br but you are quite the ingénue br and your youth endows you the spontaneity br to just hop on the back of some strange mechanic’s br Harley while his slack-jawed lackeys who br rotate your tires look on in envy br wishing they had a Harley, too br br and perhaps i felt threatened because, br while that same mechanic gleefully surfs br the crest of his midlife crisis, br i drive an SUV with a baby seat strapped in the back br i can see the tide of my own midlife crisis br start to roll in to drag me out to seabr br Rev. Dr. A.