Musings by The Poet Loriet
Fine Wine
No, actually I lied,
not fine wine,
just the $2.75 bottle
of "White Zin"
from the neighborhood store
(I'm a cheap date).
"For a good time,"
it beckons
from its perch...
"Come hither, little mama."
Now, you know,
we're not talking codependency
but today
you overextended.
The kids are in bed
and the two glasses
(maybe three)
to help numb your mind,
make you giggle a little...
will be our little secret,
an overindulgent
one night stand
to help dump the baggage~
no awkward goodbyes necessary.
You know where to find me
if you need me
(Aisle Seven)...
I'll wait for you.
Lori Beal
not fine wine,
just the $2.75 bottle
of "White Zin"
from the neighborhood store
(I'm a cheap date).
"For a good time,"
it beckons
from its perch...
"Come hither, little mama."
Now, you know,
we're not talking codependency
but today
you overextended.
The kids are in bed
and the two glasses
(maybe three)
to help numb your mind,
make you giggle a little...
will be our little secret,
an overindulgent
one night stand
to help dump the baggage~
no awkward goodbyes necessary.
You know where to find me
if you need me
(Aisle Seven)...
I'll wait for you.
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem ---
Fine Wine
Fine Wine