SPOKEN TO A FREIND

we're smoking outside
hosp break time

she's in theatre blues
hair hidden
which brings out her eyes
shining with a 1000 years of bright intelligence

i keep up 
just
thru the deep coast fog and hot wire 
of adrenalin and insomnia

i say

'in my garden the other month
whenever
last year, i dont know,
i thought i should stop smoking
just
so 
i
could enjoy the summer beauty of my bursting garden a little longer,
so quiet but not creepy quiet, not end of the world silence
you understand but comfortable
and
then
i
thought
about how much i enjoy smoking in my beautiful garden,
it was a quandary,
first time i used that word ever i think, by the way,
a
QUANDARY,
a circular thought puzzle
to
ponder,
ideally while
smoking'

and she says

'thats poetry'

and
i
make
it
so