Crooked Pinkie

we met an ex-pat biker named leo in sonoyta, mexico.
an american flag wrapped round' his neck
he said he was just as lost as we were. he was lying.
he had the flavor of an outlaw. we didn't ask.
we followed him for awhile down the long empty desert highway.
sun on his back, wind in his face, a lone shadow
we decided he was living the dream,
and katherine fell a little bit in love.