I said, “Oh, la Vache!”
“La Vache, le boeuf.”
“The Bouffant?”
“No, the bleu cheese baby…”

Oh Denise, my barista in the morning
And you can stop with all the warnings
Cuz the roast you brew is fine
And at least we can feast upon the chatter
Cuz it really wouldn’t matter
If I rolled into work on time

Cuz when I drink, I think about you
And all that coffee that you brew
For this percolating heart
And I’m on the brink; I sing about Truth
And all the damage it can do
To this palpitating art

Now Mary, my librarian of choice
Though, I’ve never heard her voice
Any louder than a hush
She scares me so, if she barely lifts a finger
Puts this reader through the wringer
My little literary lush

Cuz when I read, I dream about you
And all the books that would choose
For this ever-hungry mind
And I take what’s real, I feel for the clues
I don’t get hung up on the blues
Of your ever-changing eyes

And I said, “Oh, la Vache!”

Now, there’s Belinda — my marimba of emotion
Cast my heart into the ocean
Upon her ever-rising tide
Her best friend Brandi is the candy-of-the-apple
Man, she got Babylon to babble
With that Albuquerque smile
Now, how ‘bout Joni? Matrimonially minded
Got her Master’s same as I did
Pouring water into wine
Her sister Jamie used to play me all her records
On all those rainy days in Texas
Back when time was out of mind

And I like to think I haven’t a clue
Washed up while weeping in this brew
The paralysis of choice
And I start to sink, I fend for the few
Fight the flesh and flash a tune
Find the breath to fill the voice

And I said, “Oh, la Vache!”
“La Vache, Bouffard”