Poem: Desperation Reeks

Marlboro used to be Woman’s cigarette,

not any Man’s, but he too took that away.

Women are supposed to smoke Newport.

How am I to do that? With no money!

I don’t even have a dime to my name.

When the sun goes down, I walk around.

How do you pretend to throw away a gum wrapper?

I collect them just for this reason.

Pretend or no pretend, this craving won’t be ignored.

My clean hands pull out the longest butts.

The nice Marlboro lighter was taken away.

I lost the gas station lighter too.

I’m not the strong Marlboro Cowboy.

I was never the sophisticated Newport smoker.

My lips are not the first to touch this poison.

When I’m certain no is close to question me, I light a match.

The first inhale tastes so good.

I know I should stop, but I can’t and won’t,

and neither will the next after me.

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