Usha Pisharody - Carcinoma

My hand stretches out

Unbiddingly -
Involuntarily
to reach for the long slim

Cigarette.


Shaking fingers

burn it to life;
scorching it
crumbling it to ashes

taking its breath away
to make me feel.

The white cloud
streams free -
after capture in
rotting lungs.

I know-
I know-
My time has come
as it meant to
relentlessly-
Crushed out like the
last remains of a long
slim cigarette;

The hot orange
stifled to grey ash.

And still I do it.
Dear god -
Still I do it.


7 March, '84

Usha Pisharody

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/carcinoma/