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A Bent Addiction.

Updated on January 2, 2010


A Bent-Addiction.  


When the open

grave of my mouth,
closes around the

 vegetation of the damned,
I eagerly inhale

a slow death,

lit on one end,
its miniature glow,

like the coals

of Hades smolders
as I carry a torch

to some narrow space,
reserved for me in

a tragic breathless future.

I'll continue

to blow O-rings
like a dying

space shuttle,
sharing packs

with my best friends
who will join

me soon enough
in an ash can

of cremation,
or some patch

of unreal estate
plotted for us all,

by force of habit.

Other family and

Friends will gather

above as we lie
snuffed out below,

murmuring sad
"I told him so's,

and spreading dirt,
over the latest news

in their busy lives.
from ashes to ashes,

dust to dust,
from local headlines

to headstones,
our lives will be

when the Marlboro man

at long last rides

off with our souls.




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    • pbwriterchick profile image

      pbwriterchick 8 years ago

      Yes, that damned Marlboro Man... do you suppose he rides Joe Camel off into the sunset with a sack of our souls slung over his back? :) This is the coolest cigarette poem I've ever read! You def have the gift of playing with words!

    • Jess Killmenow profile image

      Jess Killmenow 8 years ago from Nowheresville, Eastern United States

      Addiction and habit are uneasy brothers. Nicotin is more addictive than heroin. Thanks for this thought provoking poem, MFBIII