The first beer was cold and refreshing
like a dip in the Atlantic,
the second beer was just as smooth,
like a river in June,
the third beer clearly
brought in the high tide,
splashing my thoughts,
Can You Buy Me A Drink?
Your beauty drew me to the bar,
You found me a bit bizarre
When I asked politely
With my teeth shining brightly,
Can you buy me a drink?
Never did I think
You’d waste yours on my head
Before you slapped me and fled.
My cat does not chase mice anymore,
Lies in the sun by the French door,
His fuzzy tale sweeps the floor,
During his naps he snores,
No species wars
in his chores,
Robert Stanhope is a writer and photographer. His poetry, short stories, and flash fiction are inspired by the commonly overlooked dramatic and comedic moments of everyday life. Follow him on Twitter @robertstanhope.