black smoke chronicles part three…

gimme light

black coffee sits with
a burning cigarette, both
desperate for attention,
silently competing over
who’ll be drank or smoked

my tiny space expands &
contracts as i play with
my heartbeat; watching
ice melt in an abandoned
cup next to my computer.
takes more than you’d
think to push words
around & i can’t tell
if the ice is watching
me try to write
or i’m watching it

it says right on the
packaging y’ain’t
s’poseda do this. well?
let’s do this. now.
only thing more fun than
not following instructions
is coloring outside the
lines (go ahead &
trust me on this subject,
if nothing else.) coffee’s
pretty good. serious.


Ever write a poem feeling like a total prick & then realizing it about halfway through only to apply slapdash editing to quickly take out that pinch of vitriolic distemper? Yeah, me either. Thanks BMS. Seriously? “okay, Eddie.” Goddamit.

3 Responses to “black smoke chronicles part three…”

  1. lol, lol, love the end tidbits inside the mind of…uhm…still looking for the appropriate word. Imagery is cool, vivid, the scene came alive…could even imagine the ashes falling 🙂

  2. Minds At Play Says:

    Seems like you were waiting for inspiration and you were then inspired to describe that slooooow going period of time – and did it very well. Take some comfort in that fact that it is an even more excrutiationg process for those of us who don’t write nearly as well as you do! Didn’t see the “vitriolic distemper” except perhaps where you used the caps.

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