CARCINOMA

my hand stretches out

unbiddingly –
involuntarily
to reach for the long slim

cigarette.

shaking fingers

burn it to life
scorching it
crumbling it to ashes

taking its breath away
to make me feel.

the white cloud

streams free –
after capture in
rotting lungs.

I know-
I know-
my time has come
as it meant to
relentlessly
crushed out like the
last remains of a long
slim cigarette

the hot orange
stifled to grey ash

And still I do it
Dear god –
Still I do it.

7 March, ’84