Butts

I tried to capture the desperation of two people dependent on each other, reusing cigarettes just to have a smoke.

Funny,

how a smell can send you back

to another place, hurtling

through space: a reverse

déjà vu.

For me,

It’s the stale smoke

That flicks me back to my past

Like these years have vanished.

You know,

            You’re broke

            When you gotta share

            Smokes. Bumming one after another.

            We called them ‘shorts.’

 

A quick drag

            The smell of burned paper

            And the acrid taste of reused

            Nicotine.

 

This half-satisfaction

            Never lasted longer than the exhale

            Once, twice, and the restlessness

            That comes from knowing

            This gasp may be your last.

 

Reviews

[arizonagallagher]

This is such a gorgeously dark and very real piece of poetry. The brilliance is in the ability of the imagery that makes the mood so strong. Very honest, raw, and powerful. Bravo!