Everyone says poems are butterflies, puppy dogs and chocolate pudding. Or something like that.
But what if they're about things not as, er, fluffy?
The Joy of Smoking
Unwind the plastic belt and hear the silly crinkle as you unsheathe
the hard red box
Turn it over and tap tap tap it on the bottom
Spread open the lid
Take a deep breath, inhale the strong sweet and musky scent
Pull off that last little cover and admire the perfect little rows,
waiting for fire
Run your finger along their firm but soft ends
Slowly work one away from the rest
Release it, roll it between your fingers and admire the smooth roundness
Bring it to you nose and inhale, closer this time, deeper this time
Anticipation
Lick your lips, cradle the cylinder gently between them
Tease the spongy circle with your tongue
Give it a little nibble
Light the fuse and burn burn burn
by Vicky Dobbin
No comments:
Post a Comment