The Cigarette
The sun sets; it evolved into; it came to me.
That is, my cigarette came to an end.

My judgement is not clear.
My jones; it transcends into a bad start.
To get into it as I knew;
A swallow and a swallow again.
It gets a little intense.
There it goes, that jones again.

Bum to bum,
There is Billy; Damn! Billy.
To cop that quarter, for a loosie.
Right on man, to cop a loosie!

It came to be another realization, to cop that loosie.
When times get hard, the pain!
Damn, I need a loosie, as my jones get in the way.

It antagonizes me.
Can I cop a loosie?
Just this time?
Damn that loosie.

James Hawkins