A Cigarette For The Task at Hand

Used to smoke cigarettes
Now I choose not to

Still like a drink of whisky
Don’t touch anything else

I choose not to now
Too many ways to go numb

I can only decide a few
that feel right and true

It’s a narrow path to heaven
Or whatever comes next

It’s not attempting to feel less lost
More a case of attempting to connect

More about paring down this ruin
I’m a sandcastle after all

The waves are close enough to damage
the firm-appearing walls

that will crumble right away upon
one touch of the bitter ocean

Its waves laugh and laugh
at the ease of my ease with the paranoia

So I sit on the sand and linger a bit
A smoke in my hand still unlit

I will break the sandcastle down one day
Futile gesture with the tide coming in

Glory coming with it
on the sunset’s back

A horse for the eternal need
to trample something

I will get on its back and light the cigarette
Crouch over the good horse’s neck and whisper “now”

because it does not much matter if it is now
Now is forever

We leap
to the task at hand

“““““““““““““““““““““
onward,
T