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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0880FrdTQc

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A Cigarette

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I think there are few things,

nowadays,

as poetic 

as a cigarette.

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We know that they kill us -

Christ, 

when you've smoked enough of them

you can almost feel it as they do it.

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And yet, it's such an indulgence, 

such a luxury, 

to sit on the steps 

of a porch you've just bought -  

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just mortgaged - 

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and pull poison from a little, paper tube,

as though its carnal invitation 

might make the time that we have here,

somehow, a little easier to bear.

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I could wonder after

why there might be such a solace 

in a slow, calming poison. 

But then again, 

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It isn't any wonder …

no, hardly a wonder

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    at all. 

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