As My Newport Gently Weeps Poem by Shannon Walker

In the pin drop silence
Of a burning cigarette,
There is a moment of transition,
About an inch and a half down,
Where the lust turns to disdain,
And the satisfaction wanes,
And the words that started to fall
Out of the end of my dripping pen
Dissipate with the drifting smoke.
The tobacco remains though,
Earthy and rough,
On the end of my prickling tongue,
As I crumble up the paper in disgust
And throw it away.