spat
  Ian Martin

i don't smoke
but i know the distance of one cigarette
i've shuddered to Jeanne D'Arc & Fortune
boots crunching bone snow
stomach clawing against my jacket
but mouth vapour shot out
and dragged me further
through ribcage rows of houses

i don't smoke
but something choked me
as i walked down the driveway
clipped and caged by peripherals
couldn't sense
the house behind or
the heart

so walk one cigarette
look at my house from the schoolyard
and the fire station
and come back
with perspective
or
without excess breath
to shout

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