downtown athletic club

two more honey-stained brews
make slick circles on the tavern table
and the boys smirk.
two more foam mustaches line the lean lips
their girls like to kiss.
their girls who sip white wine,
their girls who blush at memories
and point at the lemon balanced on one boy's glass.
"it belongs in the beer," says the blonde.
he shrugs in protest.
the brunette disagrees, "don't put it in yet,"
and her friend turns.
"whose side are you on?" she asks.
"the lemon's."