What an Asshat
Red beans and rice and sausage
for her and cheeseburger with
shoestring fries for me.
A Ninkasi Believer ale for both of us.
A short careless waiter for both of us,
passing us twice, a waiter
with a greasy apron and loose dirty jeans.
Southern food is served
at the Horsehead Bar,
a bar with an Irish flag in one corner
and in the other a Johnny Cash poster
of him wildly giving the finger.
My stressed friend Shelly
and I are gossiping.
Several times she says
Don’t repeat this.
She looks to the busy bar
and sees her city bus driver who
sped by her one morning.
He grabs the asses
of the women beside his stool.
Later when leaving and
after two more happy hour ales,
Shelly sarcastically yells, calls
What an asshat!
©Nicole Taylor all rights reserved
Nicole Taylor lives in Eugene, Oregon. She is an artist, a hiker, a poetry note taker, a sketcher, a volunteer and a dancer, formerly in Salem’s DanceAbility. Her poems have been accepted in Boneshaker: A Bicycling Almanac, Camel Saloon; Cirque Journal; Clackamas Literary Review; Just Another Art Movement Journal – New Zealand, West Wind Review and others. You can read more her poetry at Oregon Poetic Voices, a collection of Oregon poets with written and audio poetry available online through Lewis & Clark College.