loiterout in front of
brick buildings
like outcasts
waiting for a
hollywood call up,
or inmates
cowering away from
the warden for a moment,
or child support evaders
hoping everyone will look
at their smoke versus their faces,
or they are the lost gods
that will become the future
idols of utter witchcraft,
or they are the children of
the lost that will keep showing you
their courage against mortality,
they are the people running your life
and your life is only a cold cigarette
in the blistering cold
as the last of
their wafting nicotine habit
goes hurtling upwards
towards a finality of invisibility.
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