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Poem: kill the cigarette

Poem: kill the cigarette

kill the cigarette | by carmel mikol

tweed
vested
tie died
flat chested
drunk with the boys
on sunday monday
beat the snare
till it bleeds confetti
stomp your feet
to the four four beat
dodge the bill
kill the cigarette on the street

||

I wrote this poem from my second floor apartment window above Agricola Street in Halifax. Many songs and many poems spilled out over that window sill where I spent hours watching people pass on the street below and trying like hell to get words on the page.