Ode to Smoking (previous title)
She looks at me with scornful eyes
my roll-up next to my bump.
I used to smoke red Marlboro’s you know
rollies helped me cut down for the baby
I was 15
loving the way one small drag could result
in a long thin trail.
Can I try one?
I coughed and coughed until one day
I saw it snake out and up,
cross-eyed I’d watch it
make perfect round circles
Soon I owed so many I had to buy my own.
When I got kicked out of school
the kick at the back of my throat would stop me crying
After that it was just lovely
so social, great
I made new friends
it opened doors
I got my break
I met the rich and famous
Robbie stood there, his fag unlit.
“If you’re not going to smoke that
can I have it?”
He smiled, took it from his lips
Gave it to me
with a casual fingered flip.
“What are you DOING?” screamed Kath.
“His DNA, his DNA! Why are you smoking it?”
“Want a drag?” I offered
She practically ate it
Then that blue line
I inhaled all my tears
until I’d come to my decision and
stopped.
The first few days my heart beat
fast, my brow was wet I
couldn’t stop twitching.
Then I drank lots of water.
Three weeks later down the pub
I tell ex ex boss and deputy
I’m duffy.
Ex ex boss went to the bar and I
gave in and asked deputy
for a crutch.
It’s hard to carry the world upon your shoulders
You need something.
They’re banning it outside hospitals now
where the addicted go to breath
as their family’s lives hang inside.
“It’s worse than cocaine,” says Don’t Mess With Me Mandy
“I’m gasping for a fag,” I tell her
“I’m being crushed by the system and I can’t breathe.”
We all die
We all stop breathing.
World, I plead, give me a home
give me a home and I’ll give up.
Make it hard for me
give my son a garden.
I’ll miss you ciggie
My friend, my foe
All the taxes you made me pay
not abroad though
You helped me write this poem
if that’s what this is
I hope I smell you again
in a pub.
(Sue de Nim 2005. Taken from The Book That Will Never Be Published. Everyone who's read it has said it's crap and to edit it. Hence the title)
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