Sunday and time for The Mag!
FIRST THOUGHT
From cig to butt
Is short by most standards
Then it’s discarded
In the streets
In the fields
In the gutters
To travel endlessly
Stripped of tobacco
Stripped of identity
It becomes a filter
A filter of nothing
Whose main purpose
For years ahead
Is to simply exist
With all clutter
SECOND THOUGHT
He waited
He watched
He smoked.
He checked the time
Checked it again
Time ran out.
The length of
Four cigarettes
Decided her fate.
The unfaithful
Took her last breath
As he smoked.
