Cigarette-less In The Heights

It's been more than a month, April 1, since I've smoked a cigarette. Hold the applause, though; I've been weaning myself with cigarillos. Some of you may not see, or smell, the difference, but to me it's huge. I'm on my way, with the grace of God. Prayer, willpower, and poetry have been my main guides, not forgetting those cigarillos, so I thought I'd celebrate a little by giving you all a snippet of my work-in-progress opus.

Smoking: A Eulogy In Progress (Part 1)

Get behind me, Satan,
and blow rings of Marlboro smoke
round my neck,
flick the ashes
down the back of my shirt
and stub your butt out
on one of my butt pockets.
Permit me all conceivable intercourse
with that cigarette
except inhalation and I'll
bequeath you the sole
of my right shoe,
the one that's damned
thousands of brotherly rags.
Deal?
One never wants
for a lighter in hell,
I suppose.

Tex Williams-Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette)