CUPHOLDER CROWN

Cupholder crown in a hand-me-down ride
Queen of the county with her seat leaned right
No velvet rope, no downtown crowd
She wears that cupholder crown

She pulled up late in a faded green Ford
One hubcap missing, bass shaking the door
Gas-station coffee in a foam-ring throne
Sunglasses on though the daylight was gone
Said, “Don't call me princess, I work for mine”
Double shift finished at nine-oh-nine
Receipt roll hanging from her apron side
Still walked in like she owned that night
She knew every song from the very first drum
Turned a gravel pull-off to kingdom come
Didn't need diamonds falling down
Just that paper cup in her cupholder crown

Raise no glass
Bow no head
She built her throne
Where the highway led

Cupholder crown in a hand-me-down ride
Queen of the county with her seat leaned right
No velvet rope, no downtown crowd
She wears that cupholder crown

Her little brother called at a quarter to one
Needed a ride; last bus had gone
She cut off the music in the middle of mine
Said, “Family first — you coming or staying behind?”
Found him waiting by the grocery wall
Backpack torn and ashamed to call
She never lectured, just unlocked the door
Put his tired shoes on the rubber floor
That's when I saw what royalty means
Not being served, but serving unseen
Every small kingdom needs someone around
Who picks up the lost while wearing the crown

She didn't rule the room.
She made room
for everybody else.

Cupholder crown in a hand-me-down ride
Queen of the county with her people inside
No velvet rope, but the whole road bowed
To that cupholder crown

Long live the queen.