October 9, 2008


Oh cigarette!

How I crave the delicious scent

Of your hash browned innards

Bursting into flames,

Filling the air with your intoxicating smoke

As the sun rises over my coffee.

Oh cigarette!

How I love your chewy cotton ass

The yellow/orange color of sandwich cheese

Sitting on the shelf at 7/11

Dated March 1987.

Oh cigarette!

I need to feel you

Filling my soul

During our quickie between classes.

Oh cigarette.

On the darkest night

Crawling through the city black

You light my path

With cherries burning bright.

But cigarette?

You are hand crafted by the

Machina of The Man

Where your natural beauty

Is pumped full of more chemicals

Than a movie stars face.

And worse yet The Man

Tells us - in big block letters -

His exact intentions.

So they take take take that 5 dollars,

Every single day.

And they take take take another

Life away;

Because The Man

He controls the medication too,

So you pay him to get sick

And also to recoup.

But does he fix this problem?


They drag it out

To take your dough.


I am not saying

“Don’t Smoke!”

Please please - puff away

Smoke hand rolled organic cigars

Grown in an urban renegade garden

Springing life from corporate trash.

Please please puff away,

On that silly green smoke;

I am not here to say

“Don’t Smoke”


Just think for a moment

Where your cash goes

And make sure they are not pulling it

From your ass and your nose.


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