After the First Beer

After the first beer
I looked around the bar.
A long-haired middle-aged lady
complained about the music.

She said the song Creep
triggered her. I looked around
and spotted a golden-haired lady
complaining about a dirty glass.

There was a cacophony of voices
at the bar. A lean, red-head lady
with her man, laughed in unison,
drinking what looked like blood.
Every man and lady appeared to
be of the vampire persuasion.

There was a woman standing at
the jukebox swaying back and forth.
She told the bartender, Aphrodite

was her name. It was getting late.
The beer was getting warm
and bitter. I felt like I was being
bitten all over my body.

*

Remember the Rain

Did you remember the rain?
Wasn’t it beautiful?
Waiting under that awning
with all the other patrons
waiting to partake of red
or green chilaquiles or
enchiladas, or the fried folded
tacos with shredded beef
and cotija? The rain that
came down sideways
drenched our pants and shoes.
It was a summer morning.
We met up early and battled
the traffic and the rain
for about 10 miles, while
marveling at the needed rain.
It was only a day or two
when we complained about
the heat, the worst in many
summers past. We found
a new spot where the line
suggested this was the place
to be in Bellflower. We waited
over 30 minutes, maybe more.
We disposed of breakfast
quicker than the wait. On
the way home the rain
blessed us all along the way.