The Best St. Patrick’s Day

My attempt for day 26 of the 2011 April PAD Challenge.

He crashed their party at the pub,
a reunion unwelcome by the girl
beside him in the booth. He matched her glare
with glossy smiles and whitened teeth;
he even offered to buy her a drink
(or three; however many she would need).

Her senses blurred until she didn’t mind
him caressing her shirt. He feigned a slur
as he encouraged her to match each drink
he drank–his tolerance had grown since church.
Despite her Irish genes, she couldn’t keep
the pace with single-minded ambition.

Beneath the table, their hands explored each
other’s pants. Her eyes adrift, his own affixed
on breasts he’d always dreamt to touch. She laughed
at dirty jokes he told, rehearsed the days
before. Their audience sat silently;
he hoped they’d remember the day–for her.

When last call came, her friends pulled her away,
but he pulled back with his feathery touch
and body doused in Axe. He led her
out into the warm night to his
apartment a corner away, shampooed
and dusted just for such an occasion.

Critique

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