Bent Bike

Going the Distance


About Us




A Mural Of A Lady On The Rollup Door,

The Painting IS A Legend and A Little Folklore.


Sittin Around The Old Bent Bike,

Me ,Tony, And Brian An The Like.

On A Bright Chilly Winters Day,

All Around Used Motorcycle Parts Lay.


There’s A Harley FLH All In A Basket,

A Crashed Kawasaki The Rider In A Casket.

There’s A Hanging Rope Just For Steve,

Without Morals For Whom There Is No Reprieve!


In The Back A 45 Harley And A Triumph Supreme,

Chopped And Polished Shining In It’s Own Gleam.

An Iron head On A Rack Still Being Built,

After Two Years Of Tears Agony And Guilt.


There’s Oil Grease And Grime,

Accumulated Over 30 Years Of Time.

David Mann Paintings Plaster The John,

Ripped From Easy Riders, Early In The Dawn.


Neon Signs Antiques And Collectables,

Make The Shop Half Assed Respectable.

Skulls , Knives , Rings, Decals And Patches,

Under Glass Securely Held By Latches.


A Harley Decker Seat Turned Into A Chair ,

IN Front Of The Counter A Brass Foot Rail For Flare.

Crash Helmets Called Beanies Or Lids,

Hang From Rafters With Things Open To Bids.


A Credit Policy Stated In Full,

Pay Now , Owe Nothing. NO BULL !

Purchasing Is Money On The Barrel Head,

That Is How WE Keep Our Children Fed.


For The Obscure Part For A 70’s Japper,

Dig Through The Shelves, Just Don’t Dress To The Dapper.

A Hundred Thousand Parts, Some May Be Rare,

To Find The Part You Need, Just Search With Care.


Than The Trip Up The Stairs,

For Tires And Tubes An Other Such Wares.

At The Top Of The Wooden Steps A Landing,

An Office Were Oft You’ll Find Brian Standing.


Did I Forget To Mention Tony,

Who At The Top Of  His Lungs Sings Bony Marony,

In His Work He Dances To His Own Refrain,

Better Than Wasting Time Standing In The Rain.



I’ve Not Told All, So For Yourself Come And See,

Bent Bike Shop Is A Magical Discovery Spree.



Thanks  Ken..