The sign says "cantina."

I order a glass of red wine anyway.
The bartender
reaches in the cooler.
I look away
this feels painful.
The pink of the zinfandel
catches the light.
It's pretty
but not what I asked for.

Pacing back and forth
he finds red wine.
We have a Merlot
and a Cabernet Saw-vigh-nun
I think he might be joking
but he is dead earnest.
Hey, I'm not French.

That's quite ok
what matters is
you are real.