MOTORCYCLE PURCHASE


︎︎︎ Lamb

︎ Jan 18, 2026

I recall becoming a novel mammal. Imagine

a bat blithing dumb, ribbed ears willing in the forshunned bright,
sheepish as to issue mystery, but with gullish wings set long and
plumed, sailing between clouds and ground … This is how I was.

Perfumed in cinnamon and gasoline, I was biological.

Chirping lithely toward October, gliding under evening, over roads
aglaze in butterscotch, nodding Christian love to the seldom country
face inside a car, spotting autumn flares along the mount’s fir coat, like,

Yes. There it is, happening. It’s happening, I’m happening, I am
happy, once and for all, I am perhaps especially beloved by God.



Lamb is an American poet.

Also by Lamb: FOURTH WATCH