and this morning i wanted a cigarette

the stench of quitting hung in the air
thicker than any smoke
you could taste it on mens breaths as their
resolutions made them choke
a cloud of collective health-consciousness lingered
round each packetless pocket and purse
the drumming of distracted fingers
tuneless tapping tense and terse
and i wanted a cigarette more than ive ever wanted a cigarette before
and i wanted more
a fistful of fags and a faceful of fumes - o cigarettes galore
i wanted to blow smoke in their faces and shout "are you sure?"
stop stopping, quit quitting maybe who you were is fine
and if your wife wont let you, you can still have a clandestine
secret affair with the lover who warms you like fire
i would have been preaching to the choir
with a patch on your sleeve but never in your heart
a new year should be about a new start