A real cigarette

[Jerrybaldy]

You have an a ss
Like the bottom of my glass
Of chardonnay
Fay Wray,
Pass me the gun
For Russian roulette
I have tourettes
You c unt.
I'd like to bet
You can't light my cigarette
As its a vape
Lung cancer is so passe
It's barely cool anymore.
When I sit alone intoxicated
I'm f ucked if I can remember what I used
To think about
When I sat alone intoxicated.

Poetry needs renaming
So I don't need to wear my dead grandmother's lacey nightgown
To write it
Or recount it.
Sometimes people just capture something
In a singular sentence,
Image or song.
Throw enough, some sticks.
Exit stage right
For a real cigarette,
Beneath the gown
I'm hung,
Fay Wray is OK
With the vacant lung.