Poem: The Barmaid

She sat on a stool, and knocked back a straight vodka, from the serving side of the bar.

She was the woman I then wanted to buy a drink from.

She was the barmaid, so perfect by drinking, so good at pool.

So cool to watch; good looking and looking good.

I paled in comparison as I approached the bar

slow, never close to elegant, using my last change to buy my …