THE BEEF

Sitting at the grill this eve
and it comes as no surprise
no matter how I dodge and weave
the smoke always gets in my eyes.

Boy, those cheap steaks sure smell good
as they cook and sizzle on the fire
and I reckon that they should
to offset evening's heat and ire.

Damn! A gnat flew up my nose!
just as I swatted a mosquito
even though I've sprayed my clothes
with the best repellant that I know.

A stiff breeze now grounds evening's bane
giving swatting arms a break.
One steak's gifted me with a grease stain
on new blue jeans for goodness sake.

Wind swirls the smoke away from me
so I spare a glance for nearby woods
just as a squirrel runs up a tree
then perches on a limb and broods.

He decides he doesn't like my look
so begins to scold and bark and such
due to some offense that he took.
I shrug, listening but not much.

Because the steaks are cooked at last.
So I stab and place them on a plate,
go to the kitchen really fast
where beans and bread and bride await.

First fork full nearly melts in mouth
and I see my better half enjoys hers too
so suffering heat, smoke and bugs in the south
are worth all the fuss that I went through.