The Chimichanga plate called out to me.
Not so bizarre.
And servings bottomless of sweet iced tea,
In canning jar.
My stomach feels like suitcase stuffed too full.
Then at the bar,
I ordered some concoction with Red Bull,
And tried by wit and charm a lass to pull.
But food and drink prevailed over class–
I sang a tune to her from out my ass.
Challenge read about here:
(Found via reblog from here: https://themilitantnegro.com/2017/09/29/10-line-poem-challenge-3-sacred-signia/)