Fleeting Fixation

my life allows me to smoke
it's funny to think of my life,
my preoccupation of my life, like that
smoking is much more than inhaling
smoking is much more than exhaling
smoking is a romantic beauty with sadness
such is life, sad and beautiful
smoking is what you call an epitome of
fleeting fixation, emotional self-gratification
on thoughts, many thoughts, handfuls of sensations
in the same breath I feel how it hurt
to cough, sneeze, wheeze to freely breath
would you like a cigarette? yes, please
I converse with my soul and spirit
over woman's fascination with fire
control is power, freedom to think
freely flows this desire of fire and smoke
flicks the flame, smoke sparks the brain
oneness, wholeness & self-satisfaction


oh, the look in my grandfather's eyes
when he lay dying of cancer
the disgust in the tone of his voice
approaching me while smoking on that
warm, st. petersburg ocean evening
all the while the song of the folk purist
Carl Sandburg, plays in the background
"cigarettes will spoil yer life"
I know what is true
my life is more complete when my thoughts flow
my life is more exciting than quitting
quitting, is so definite
quitting is so well defined
quitting is free