First Smoke

Posted by Dave Bonta on December 17, 2008 (last modified at 9:01 pm, 12/17/08)

man smoking cigarette through a four-foot-long holder
Photo by Yale Joel for Life magazine

Little smoky thumb, how
I’ve missed sucking on you!
My head floats on its stem
like a flower that’s just been pollinated.
In the seven years
since I broke the habit,
every cell in my body has been
replaced at least once, but
my fingers still remember
exactly what to do, juggling
the huggermuggery of matchbook
& rolling paper, ashtray & ash.
What other parts of my new/old body
have inherited secret flaws?
With growing detachment
I watch the thing go gray
as I draw the glowing life out of it,
picturing the road in Japan
where I’d stood 21 years ago,
having just placed the very first one
between my lips & wondering what
the hell to do next.

Filed in Memoir, Poems & poem-like things. Bookmark the permalink. Trackbacks are closed, but you can post a comment.Print Print

5 Responses to First Smoke

  1. slynne says:
    December 17, 2008 at 10:27 pm

    This is great.

    Reply
  2. Jo says:
    December 18, 2008 at 3:49 am

    Fantastic.

    Reply
  3. Dana says:
    December 18, 2008 at 2:41 pm

    “What other parts of my new/old body
    have inherited secret flaws?”

    Yes. Fantastic line. I love the image, too.

    Reply
  4. Dave says:
    December 19, 2008 at 10:11 am

    Glad y’all liked it. I was literally jotting down the words and phrases that became the poem in between puffs, though I’d thought the poem would be about something else entirely.

    I should explain that the tobacco I was smoking is from an ornamental species I grew in my garden a few years back. It tastes much less disgusting to the (very) occasional smoker than a “real” cigarette would.

    Reply
  5. David Harmon says:
    December 19, 2008 at 11:32 am

    Great, but also a little uncomfortable — I’m a 20-year smoker, who’s distinctly ambivalent about it. But I LOL’d at “little smoky thumb”!

    Reply

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