To a Sportbike with Aftermarket Exhaust

The voice of a bulge where a bulge oughtn't be
Belies new, polished shine with a laugh so sickly,
A rattling, tasteless, and amoral burst
Like a two-fisted drinker out quenching his thirst,
But hawks make awful shrieks, and they manage to fly.
If I had some ear plugs, I might give it a try.