Lucky Charms

by Kelli Lee Weyand

MY first time in an Irish pub I wanted to look real cool,
so I ordered Lucky Charms. You looked at me from across the bar,
one eyebrow raised. It was either the I-Can't-Believe-You-Ordered-That
eyebrow raise or the Why-Hello-What's-Your-Name-Little-Lady eyebrow raise.

After a few green beers and a couple bowls of that delicious cereal,
I noticed that you looked a little bit like the leprechaun on the box.
Maybe I was just thrown off by those buckles on your shoes, or by
the way you kept offering to polish my loafers, or
by the fact that you kept hugging that black kettle to your chest.

Anyway, you scooted on over to the stool next to me, slumped
one of your fat little arms around my shoulder and used your
other hand to pull a stuck multi-grain horseshoe off my chin.
There was no way I could resist that line:
''Wanna get a look at me red balloons?''
When our eyes locked, you froze in your seat like you couldn't move.
I thought maybe you were having some kind of attack,
but then I knew that you were blinded by my beauty.

I knew what every girl on this holiest of days knows:
men are always after me Lucky Charms.
Because they're magically delicious.

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