Country Store
She stands behind the gray
worm eaten counter
taking money,
making change,
slinging café latte’s
and double
hazelnut
tall,
breve’s.
Elbows on the counter
cleavage lumping my throat,
making me wish I could ski.
And boy howdy,
“Morning sunshine.”
Coquettish blue eyes blinking.
“Here shugga,
let me get that bottle of Coke
for your lady.”
And the lump half chokes me
when her fine ass
smooches my crouch
as she passes.
Damn,
the other day I bought three cans
of a new brand of five alarm chili
and I’m a vegetarian.
