a broken neon sign flashed Mel’s <br />atop a small darkened bar <br />on the edge of town <br /> <br />the air heavy with stale smoke and beer <br />blended faintly with the odor <br />of dried spit on unclean bodies <br /> <br />she sat at a small table alone <br />pondering the world’s problems, <br />two drinks past seeing <br />beyond the unkempt nails <br />on the chipped Formica in front of her <br /> <br />the lines in her face <br />were knit as if by a palsied hand <br />dropping stitches <br />where a pox scar decided to roost <br /> <br />for her this was home, <br />at least until tonight’s john <br />with an empty glass <br />and full libido swaggered up <br />and invited her to the nearest no-tell motel <br /> <br />life sucks <br />but it was her life <br />and feeling in control, <br />a spider in her web, <br />she threw back another drink <br />and waited<br /><br />C.J. Heck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/barfly-woman-in-a-bar/
