Dedicated to that evil dragon that still waits for me behind every convenience store counter.
Just One More.
I dreamed I had a cigarette.
It’s been five years, you don’t forget
the white smoke stroking across your tongue,
down your throat, into your lung.
I remember when I was a boy,
the thrill of sweet, illicit joy.
We’d meet behind the school and puff
and talk about our grown-up stuff
When I first met my “Mrs Right”
I opened with “Hey! Got a light?”
My breath, it caught a little bit
as her lips, so gently puffed it lit.
When first our love was consummate
we shared a sated a cigarette
and in the morning we awoke
to a cup of coffee and (of course) a smoke.
Ahhh! The best and worst of times so often,
I shared them with a ‘nail de coffin.’
I fear that till the very end
I’ll miss my little rolled up friend.
Well maybe if I have just one.
It might be nice, it might be fun.
A friend’s old pack was where I looked.
It’s been so long, I can’t get hooked.
So I placed the tube between my lips.
The match between my fingertips.
I struck the fire. My God! It’s lit!
I take a drag. I’M SMOKING IT!
I taste my breath and the dizzy bliss.
But wait, it’s tasting vile. What’s this?
<Choke>,<Choke> I’m falling to the floor
Well maybe if I have…
… just one more.