Fag (Slow Drag)

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Fag

It’s such a slow drag,
The drawl of a cigarette,
Smoke lingering, dead
In the mouth of a fag

Pursed between lips
Dangling alone
Moved by the wind
As it bites, whips

There’s just no relaxing
When all of the world
Is changing their face,
Waning and waxing

He stays the same
Bright as the moon
Beaming bright
No shame to his name

The cigarette burns down
With the hot blazing sun;
It does what it does
And burns the whole town

And burns his red mouth
Already scabbed
Already waiting
For the wind to turn south





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