Paul Handley was so inspired by the success of Jim Pittenger — 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:
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to Westword's mission. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling Denver's stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
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.