Joel Sweeney
She dazzled my low expectations,
in a jean skirt, tank top, and flip flops.
Back lit by a sunset she entered
this mini-mall Mexican restaurant
like a straight-to-video star.
My friend said, "Joel, this is Joanne.
Remember? I was telling you about her."
It was nothing good:
dramatic, always single,
worked for the IRS.
He said nothing of her looks,
let my thoughts fill with images of sweatpants,
mechanical pencils, and Burger King lunches.
She crossed her legs, fixed her skirt,
ordered a Corona, and got me excited.
I should make conversation,
perhaps her expectations are lower than mine.
in a jean skirt, tank top, and flip flops.
Back lit by a sunset she entered
this mini-mall Mexican restaurant
like a straight-to-video star.
My friend said, "Joel, this is Joanne.
Remember? I was telling you about her."
It was nothing good:
dramatic, always single,
worked for the IRS.
He said nothing of her looks,
let my thoughts fill with images of sweatpants,
mechanical pencils, and Burger King lunches.
She crossed her legs, fixed her skirt,
ordered a Corona, and got me excited.
I should make conversation,
perhaps her expectations are lower than mine.
She Dazzled My
Low
Expectations
Low
Expectations