Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Airport smoking section
our little reservation
to preserve the masses
from our "taint"

My grandfather called them
"coffin nails"
I had images
of undertakers
sealing coffins
nails giving off
puffs of smoke
with every hammer strike

Smoking is a part of me
from that first teenage introduction
smoking on the sly
constantly washing hands & face,
eating breath mints

As an adult,
I watchthe war rage
fewer areas to smoke in
California trying to keep us
off the sidewalks
and a pub in Atlanta
with a chair 5' up a wall
labled 'no smoking section'

I look around me
the mix of age, race,
like a cohort of criminals
savoring our forbidden

I just sit here
until I find
with edges
sharp enough
to stick to paper.