ODE TO A CIGARETTE
Apart from you I would not want to walk
Outside the walls of that old factory.
Unwrapped from oath to sacred shopworn talk,
I break beneath this Eucalyptus tree.
I hold you to my lips in flagrant ways.
I draw you to my heart as I recall
A high-school dance and breathless summer days
When getting laid (yes, not laid-off) was all.
Lay brothers and lay sisters gather now
With us below the flight and cry of birds
To conjure flame, to contemplate, to bow
And fume about our foreman’s fabled words.
I clench the steady temper they might use:
Consider you downsizing like a fuse.