Wednesday, 8 September 2010

If The Man Were A Maid

I am the last barmaid poet
I see your 
drunken eyes 
as i pull your pint.

You cheer
at the sight 
of a cock-tail shaker
in my hand.

You order a shot
only to
make innuendo
regardless of flavour.

You are 
the worm
in this bottle 
of tequila.

-Donna Butlin

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