by Jeff Glovsky
She stumbles down the street, she’s drunk a little … Got her night clothes on. Dressed tightly, nightly … Mumbling to herself, and looks pissed off a little.
… At least, I rejoice, she’s not selfishly bugging her friends on some terrible cell phone. I threw mine away! “Smart” rings and tones … invasive temptation to need, and cling …
I sing!
Now she seems to be stumbling alone …
Without warning, she shoulders around to face me. “Are you following me?” she fairly howls.
Scared, I actually start a little … Catch my wits, and sidle up to her. “Am I following you? No, why?” I ask.
“Stop staring at my ass!” she grins, half mumbles to herself …
