This poem is taken from Stand 212, 14(4) December 2016 - February 2017.

F. J. Williams Three Poems
The Steelhorse Club
canto 24, circle 8, ditch 7, II. 104-06

The others in hell can't believe he's allowed
to ride a motorbike for eternity. Their punishment
as they sit beside the fire in chains is to watch him
ride by. His punishment for thieving cars and bikes
is that he can't dismount but must ride the journey
that killed him to the ash and embers of the crash.
Unable to sleep, close his eyelids or go to bed,
he sweats among the wreckage, nuts and bolts,
crawling clear as the flames leap out.
The engine always starts up, never cools down
to burn again past friends who can't wait to cheer
him onto death in Shoei helmets,
safety leathers, density foam inserts,
zips, studs and poppers that he discards
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