Traveller

Smoking again

After quitting for the fourth time

Because nicotine and sadness (mixed

Artfully with notes of narcissus)

Form an exquisite flavor.

Go ahead, wallow: you’ve earned it.

Farewell, self-respect

--And while you’re at it

Adios to your old friends

Happiness, creativity, hope and

(What the hell) hygiene.

Had it all figured out (again)

Until suddenly you didn’t (again). 

Look at you now

Roadless

Borderless

So far off the path you can’t get back

Lost in a country with no laws

Save one: life isn’t fair.

You fumble with your failures

Picking them up

Looking them over

Tossing them away again.

There’s no explaining this

It just is.  

Buddha would be pleased to see you

Thus enlightened.

You take another cigarette to mark the hour

A twist of smoke for company

And write a new definition for self-pity.

You will call Webster’s in the morning

To submit this latest, saddest, most pathetic

Version of the phrase; your photo

Will occupy the space between “self” and “pity.”

Somewhere beyond 2AM you fall into sleep

Only to wake in the morning with nowhere to go

Nothing left to dream

No one to dream it with.

The world spins on without you, full

Of secrets it won’t tell

Dreams it won’t share

Visions that leave you at the edge

Of territory you never knew was out there

Let alone had maps for

Even if you’d wanted to go.

KB ©7/12