I counted three ambulances
on the way from the bar that
humid August evening where
even my windshield wipers
were sweating, thankfully,
the sirens weren't for me.
I tipped my hat to my shot glass
on what shall soon be known as
a stellar evening.
Now I sleep through thundershowers
and come morning
my throat will howl
as my man makes coffee for me.
Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to music, chirps down coffee, and scrawls lines on the back of gas station receipts. Her work has appeared recently at In Between Hangovers, The Penwood Review, and Apricity Magazine.
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