well i dont
but want to
salute the smokers
lighting up
backs bent
cupped hands
heads down
outside b&m
& that first billow
steam train size
of chugged fumes
eddy tugged
spirals wraith like
on the grey-white wind
after
a
week
in
our cocoon balloon
our unkillable bubble
of
in-jokes
and
safety
it
becomes monday again
and
she has to work
and it is eternally awfully 10.15 AM
later
the afternoon arrives
late and strung out on carbs
and
then
the
day
falls
slowly
down
toward
reunion
and
rest
because of personal theories
about
floating
up
and
away
and
off the world
and
going where all the lost balloons go
and
an existential need
to
hold
similar
flesh
tightly
i must hold her hand fast
before
sleep
comes
what hell it was
getting
by
before
from flckr.com
