She sits on her bar stool throne
drinking the sacrifices of dollar bled
worshipers until wallets are empty.
With a cigarette rusted voice
the Queen of night torments wrings
pain from blue notes and adds another
layer of tears to whiskey walls stained with secrets.
part dream collector,
she holds court every Saturday night
at a corner bar where success is measured by a tip jar.
©Susie Clevenger 2015
Real Toads ~ The Tuesday Platform