Article: 261575 of talk.bizarre Newsgroups: talk.bizarre From: jswan@netcom.com (Jeff Swanson) Subject: FTS: Cigarettes I Have Known Message-ID: <jswanDIy86n.1yJ@netcom.com> Date: Sat, 2 Dec 1995 07:44:47 GMT Lines: 69 Sender: jswan@netcom3.netcom.com Status: O X-Status: I have known the smoke at night, At the window in the evening... The mellow smoke that swells my ribs, My heartbeat, BP, and all the rest. Glowing scarlet crux that waxes and wanes Jack-o-lantern, pumpkin colored, Indian tobacco fires, cleansing flames Crashing through prairie thickets. Cigarette crackles between my fingers, A peace pipe after a Utah thunderstorm. I have known the smoke at night, In damp sheets after tumultuous sex. Curling rings of blue inspire, Ghosts of smokers past retire Aloft in interlocking magician rings That jingle in the corners of the ceiling. Wreath of smoke 'round Santa's face -- Clay pipe clicked in huge white teeth, Extruding from shiny ringlets of beard. Tiny broken veins on Santa's nose... (that ain't MILK in that hipflask, Santa...) Cancer never sleeps, waiting just beyond The next inch of this cigarette, and In the bottom inch of this plastic bag Of aromatic pipe tobacco. Waiting to gain a foothold somewhere in my body, Wherever it can -- lips, tongue, salivary gland, uvula -- Just a pinch between the cheek and gum -- mucus membranes, esophagus, larynx, bronchial tubes, alveoli... Cancer doesn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Nicotine grinning, fills your blood with fat Cells, Swells That donut 'round your bicep, and Philip Morris laughs, and Uncle Bob Kisses the floor in the bathroom, claw to his chest, Butt smashed in his lips , Steaming pork on the table , Shotglass on the credenza , Bottle behind the couch cushions .... Fuck it. Nothing in excess, including moderation. I clench a pipe, which is at least not a cigarette, In my teeth and Light a match. My reflection smokes, and I look away. ***** --Jeff ***>jswan@netcom.com