her barstool may be her throne
but
still she sits poised in drunk
slenditity...a word she made up.

and
she's ready to go...
her beer glass scepter
in one hand,
cigarette in the other
and a knock-off gucci
over her shoulder.

slight stumbles are her trademark,
to those who watch as she leaves...
nightly,
with a different king.

and together they build a castle
in the sky of their drunken-ness,
the moat of reality is up
until tomorrow's sunrise.

08/12/2005