Monday, March 26, 2007
Teen Smoker Gets Old
In my husband's houseslippers, bulky socks,
pajama pants, thermal red plaid robe hanging
beneath my coat, sleeves shivering, knit hat holding down my hair
in dark shocks, back step concrete night, black gloves
pick my cigarette out of the street light,
out of my dry lips, shifting in the shadow box
of roof and step and poles,
more than a habit,
clothed fingers in a gang sign V, a housewife getup,
a tired head full of to-do,
in my husband's slippers,
taking in cancer, black gloves like
a mime's last request
Just sharing some stuff.
