Queen Bee

Her long legs are the first
thing you notice when she
walks into the bar, then her
eyes as yours wander upwards.
She has a gaggle of friends
with her, but they are lesser
lights and are in her wake as
she swims forward like a swan
through the debris of night.
She's the one. You take another
look, as does the entire room,
both up and down the length
of her royal highness, waiting
for the spin while someone
gets her a drink. But she gives
you nothing. She's a statue
in the blue haze. Not a glance,
or nod. She's in another world.
A place you won't be visiting
soon. So sip your beer, smoke
your cigarette, and relax,
this one's not for you.