The Last Cigarette

I stood there at the bus stop
My feet slowly sinking down
Through the depths of concrete
My back slowly merging
With the illuminated advertisement
Upon which I leaned
Staring at a street trash can
A burst blood vein of this city
Overflowing with shit.

This was the precise moment
I indulged my final cigarette
Before I'd battle the nervous
States of quitting for the third
Or perhaps the fifth time.

I dropped the smoky filter
On top of the city's blodclot
And sulked onto the bus
The way a cockroach crawls
After you've stepped on it
The way a child wanders
Into an adult.

Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

********

111107pm
The last thing I kissed:
A cigarette that burnt
My puckering lips
As streetlights painted
Yellow patterns across my chest
The same way muzzle flairs
Light up a room
During an execution.

The last thing I embraced:
An effigy made of movie clippings
They called it love
Showed it all over town:
Pictures of how it could be
Glowing on walls
The same way apparitions
Light up a room
During a poltergeist.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

New Poem

See You (Scrambled Eggs)

I dropped her
Like a cigarette
Into an ash tray
Spent, but still
Alive. Somewhat.

I grabbed at air
Like bottles
Filled with freedom.

Now,
I’m riding
A snail to victory:
To a finish line.
See you.
See you there.

There.
I load
Pills in my mouth
Like bullets in a clip
Bam!
Scrambled eggs
All over the place.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.


Sauce

Its funny how I tell my friends
I don’t miss you
Yet
I do and I don’t.
I miss not having
Nightmares:
Scrambled eggs
Running from
That hole in my mind.
But you? No.
More, myself
Before me
And the blender
Crossed paths
And I got sauced
Constantly.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.