Donald Harbour Poetry

“I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift.” ~ Dodinsky

They call her Big Momma

Posted on 11 February 2010 by Donald Harbour

Big Mamma shows her tat!

She had a red rocket
between her legs spewing
sparks and fire and smoke.
She wore tight leather pants
that contained her bulging
cheeks and hips and thighs.
Her breasts pressed into
his back holding on with nipples
hard and large and plastic.
A motorcycle momma living
the moment riding high
buzzed and boozed and aging.
When the rocket ran out of gas
she slide off her perch
grimy and sagging and tired.
You know they all had her,
satisfied that she could ride a
rocket and chopper and big hog.
She doesn’t wear leather now
her muffin top hangs out
stretch marked and white and fat.
They still come around calling her
Big Momma but there is no ride only
longing for sparks and cheeks and booze.

14 thoughts on “They call her Big Momma”

Cynthia Short on 11 February 2010 at 11:32 AM said:

Wow…this is quite visceral and sad…but done so very well…
Your descriptions like, “buzzed and boozed and aging” going quickly into, “grimy and sagging and tired” really painted a 3-D picture for me.

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barbarayoung on 11 February 2010 at 12:19 PM said:

Girl like that needs her own bike.

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Paul Oakley on 11 February 2010 at 12:28 PM said:

Donald, this is certainly outside the realm of expectation! 😉

She doesn’t wear leather now
her muffin top hangs out
stretch marked and white and fat.

Now there is an image of Truth. Great evocation of another world that still impinges significantly on the illusive, fictive Universal.

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poemblaze on 11 February 2010 at 3:47 PM said:

Well written.

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Mark on 11 February 2010 at 5:21 PM said:

I see women like that at all sorts of motorcycle events….

You captured it quite well.

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rob kistner on 11 February 2010 at 5:26 PM said:

I rode for years… think I know her mother.

Great read!

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Irene on 11 February 2010 at 7:22 PM said:

I like Barbara’s remark. Have mercy on her Donald.

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zouxzoux on 11 February 2010 at 7:59 PM said:

Oh my, you captured her perfectly for haven’t we all seen her over and over and over…..riding behind her beer-bellied Bad-ass wannabe? 😉

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Tumblewords on 11 February 2010 at 11:28 PM said:

Amazing.

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James on 12 February 2010 at 2:09 PM said:

Like other commenters, I wish she’d get her own bike and ride away. That she doesn’t is sad.

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John Stevens on 13 February 2010 at 9:59 AM said:

Let’s hear more about this lady: I suspect she has plenty to tell us!!

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Wanda McCollar on 13 February 2010 at 10:39 AM said:

Poor gal – she was probably a muffin top as a teenager – I see lots of them. Riding bikes with motors is not exactly exercise. Now do one about her beer-bellied bad boy biker friend!

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wayne on 13 February 2010 at 7:27 PM said:

what a sweatheart Don…she lived just South of Seattle…remember her like it was somewhere beyond yesterday…thanks for sharing this Donald….cheers

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pamela on 14 February 2010 at 6:16 PM said:

ouch! to big momma! poor girl but great poem!

Pamela

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