Morning-Glory

5am never tasted so good. it fills my lungs

as yesterday's last cigarette rushes into today.

days like today make the others feel

like Paris Hilton in a musical.

it's the stranger's hand brushing yours

as you enter the men's restroom.

or that desk right behind

you wish so desperately to be filled.

something is not quite right.

 

the cigarette, near death, its red anger is

closing in fast.

I'm preparing for morning glories,

a bright yellow banana and afternoon tea lights.

 

my own vitality keeps me up,

no commercialism in a venti plastic cup.

I flick my cigarette, to join its dead brothers.

fireflies, still linger, flashing with desperate light.

nature's constant reminder: no beauty is forever.