Sunday, December 21, 2014

Poetry: i really need a cigarette

I haven't written much poetry, but a couple times I've inspired to jot down a line or two. The below was written around 2002. I was working at MONY in downtown Syracuse. It was a horrible job with a horrible manager and her back-stabbing, arse-kissing lackey. The rest of my co-workers were amazing, and we had some really good laughs over the 5 years I worked there. 

Unfortunately, I've lost track of my close friends there. As has happened many times to me throughout my life. Partially out of lack of communication; partially out of lack of memory. (I should probably have that checked someday.)

I wrote this one dull afternoon from my cubicle. Incidently, I would still love to find this bar, even though I no longer really need a cigarette. If New York State hadn't banned smoking in bars, it might be a different story...


i really need a cigarette

i need a cigarette.
i won't have one.
but i'd really like one.
and an ice cold labatts.
labatts blue.
in a glass.
with two ice cubes.
while sitting in a dark bar.
the kind with a nice bartender who reminds you of your uncle.
your cool uncle, that is.
he refills the peanut bowl.
i refill the ashtray.
there's a lame football game on the tube.
miami's getting beat.
by --- whoever --- as long as miami's getting beat.
there's a guy at the end of the bar telling bad jokes.
he hates his home too.
keeps complaining that his wife likes line dancing too much.
he's thinking about buying her a bedazzler for christmas.
(not sure if he's making a joke or not).
there's an old barmaid waiting on a young couple in the corner table.
they ordered burgers and fries.
it's their third date.
she wonders if she'll give it up.
he wonders if she'll give it up.
the waitress wonders if she'll get anything for this effort too.
the clock reads three thirty-seven.
i really need a cigarette.