cut to the chase.

There she is, drunk
and all over him
talking nonsense,
and he doesn’t seem to care at all.

Sometimes I think
that if I just stopped making sense
(or just stopped talking altogether)
I’d get every man I wanted.

Her hands are holding his,
and then stroking his hair
and everyone at the bar can see
that she's kissing his neck.

Why bother I wonder,
to spend all that money on that many dirty Goose’s,
when it would have been so much easier
to just stay home.