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Koots

by Madeline Pestolesi

Sitting wedged into a corner
I avoid the random feel up of a stranger.

I stare
At my cheap ass beer ringing the table with wet
To avoid making eye contact with the prowling meat-marketers.

To the right
The muffled horn sounds Charlie Brown's teacher makes honk out of a stranger

I nod and pretend to listen.

To the left
A sea of miniskirts and haltertops.

My beer,
Is no longer entertaining.
I look up

Unfortunately

To make eye contact with a real
Alaskan looker.

Though I quickly look away,
He approaches
Offers to buy a drink.

I smile and nod
But not in a
"I wanna do you" way.

And when he turns his back to order,
I jump down from the stool
And leave him in a cloud of sawdust.

05/07/2004

Posted on 05/07/2004
Copyright © 2024 Madeline Pestolesi

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