Living Right

Weekend city folks coming out to the country green glory holes. Putin on airs, my sister does just like yours. I get up and move farther away. Don't want to hear no soap opera drama. They themselves created. Spending more on their shoes than I wear out in one life. Though the toes are pretty not to fat, one is too skinny. Even the bar maid knows that the air smells different. I over hear, Ellaiswise comment on the lips of the blond catty one and her cheeks seem paralyzed from the eyes down. On the dairy my job might deal with black and white cows but I don't have to pick up their tails and wipe their noses and I don't have to keep my head down. Country folks are simple like me and they can see. What those city girls just can't see. How I work all week on the dairy. Coveralls and a quick shower and a cup of wigglers down by the old mill stream just in case. And as I turn away from white Russians made with skim milk. The tall one asks me where I buy my cologne. She says it smells French. I tell her it is made down the road just a spell.