Biker Jim's inspires a poem: We never sausage a thing!

Hot dog! It's "Biker Jim" Pettinger.
Hot dog! It's "Biker Jim" Pettinger.
Mark Manger

Paul Handley was so inspired by the success of Jim Pettinger -- and by his Biker Jim's dogs -- that he wrote a poem, "which I sent him and was published in Puffin Circus, as was an abbreviated version on-line in Every Day Poets," Handley reports. "Jim was good enough to read it and provide feedback. He was a good sport."

And here's that poem:


Hot dogs are cool,

but not as cool as this

reindeer dog I'm gnawing

from Biker Jim's roach coach

of exotic meats. Wild boar,

German veal, jalapeno elk.

The pickups must be bizarre,

a ranch with boars on spits

getting carved like lamb gyro,

fattening pens of calves,

close enough to bludgeon,

like the carnival game where

the rodent pops in and out

of holes to slug with a hammer.

Reading my daughter My Little

People Farm, I imagine dog dogs

would sell very well in certain

regions and the duck pond would

provide fill for a bun coated with

a l'orange. She says "oink, oink"

and looks at me to confirm.

Morels, I say. The pigs

find morels.

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