Bar Story (an ode to Dry January)

As I look through your words
with a sweet vacant smile,
not trying to be rude…
I just don’t care about you.

“What?” you slur
“I think yer cute too”
“Ugh!” Not really
Admit it
Drunk in this pub

I’m just the part you endure
to get what you think you need
Why am I a cougar?
I don’t even want your
sloppy drunk seed!

Turn to exit
with some dignity
the world heaves and I
stumble predictably
Then Laugh as I run
to tell all the other
drunk moms
a cougar never stumbles.

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