Improv. 1, Week 11

from "Cigarettes"  by B. H. Fairchild (p 106)

"Yes, they kill you, but so do television and bureaucrats
and the drugged tedium of certain rooms piped
with tasteful music where we have all sat waiting
for someone to enter with a silver plate laden
with Camels and Lucky Strikes, someone who leans
into our ears and tells us that the day's work is done,
and done well, offers us black coffee in white cups,
and whispers the way trees whisper, yes, yes, oh yes."

 Yes, they kill you, but so do parents and plastic
and the bad taste of sudden allergies, passed
down from who-knows-who and triggered by
who-knows-what, swelling shut your throat
by the third bite of boiled shrimp laden
with garlic, basil, and set out upon
a silver plate. At least with cigarettes
the onset is never so sudden, so unexpected:
an early dinner with family friends, started
with coffee, and ended with you're done.