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, style like a cohort of criminals savoring our forbidden pleasure I just sit here soul-searching until I find something with edges sharp enough to stick to paper.