by tom miller

another cigarette poem

 

 

the

smoke from my

smoke

is young and old

together

 

floating off

into the air

 

like snow

the ashes

grow

 

out and off

down and gone

 

up goes the smoke

 

down go the ashes

 

out go the

2 girls

 

the skin head boy

watches after

 

he wants to

fuck them

 

once

 

and then

hate them for being

sluts

 

I had better

put this out

 

before the

filter burns

 

and the stars

wink out

 

and the moon

drops into

the sea

 

another cigarette poem

into the dust.