the third date

my butcher

is my new bartender.

i'm

no longer

at the bar drinking martinis,

instead

i stop off

at the Springfield Butcher

to shoot the breeze

with Hank.

he knows what i want as

soon as he sees

me coming through the door,

he wraps up three

rib eye steaks,

and two sirloins,

and a T-bone for the dog.

how's your love life,

he says,

wiping his bloody hands

on his apron.

not too shabby, i tell him.

in fact throw

in a pound of shrimp and

two lobster tails.

got a date 

this evening. he winks

and says, ahh ha.

third date's the charm.