Knitting together thoughts found in
other people’s hardback novels,
wine glass poised as if to say,
“Oh! Not me, dear!”
And in that small insufferable space
I wonder how the hell I
said yes to happy hour
when I know you only drink white
and the oak-infused chardonnay you’ve ordered
is rooty enough to make
the pavement split.
What a clever way to use the prompt words! Sometimes poems using prompt words can sound forced and unnatural, but this flows smoothly and makes perfect sense!