by Gerry Sloan
The waitress brings our beer.
It shimmies in the glasses
because one table leg
is shorter than the others.
The waitress makes repartee
to sweeten her tip. Jules reminds us
he has a PhD by informing us it is
French and repartay not reparteee.
Outside the dusk slowly subsides
to darkness. Meanwhile Stan confesses
the only thing useful he learned
in graduate school was to sprinkle
salt on the coaster so his beer glass
wouldn't stick.
1 comment:
A fabulous comment. Ah, I can almost taste the brewer's mark.
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