I took a road trip into your girlfriend’s mind

Where I found hot sauce dripping

on all the potato burritos.

She has harangues she hasn’t even finished,

peppers she’s pelting you with in her head.

Like other waitresses, she’s dressed in aluminum colored skirts

She contains jewelry pilfered from Peruvian thrift shops.

Perched above the giant hamburger, she gazes down,

Her peppermint lipstick taunting you.

“I have four kinds of pickle,” she chants,

in that sing-song waitress way

as though twirling an invisible tassel.

She totes up her bubblegum achievements for the day

She rides into a new Arizona,

her carriages decoratively perforated.

“Would you like a side of sauerkraut?” she purrs,

knowing you’re allergic to German vegetables.

“And let’s finish that off with an eggnog milkshake.”

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