Name: Condega Serie F Arsenio
Size: (5 1/2 inches x 50)
I’m smoking a working-class man’s cigar
on the terrace,
thinking about the past
and the masks I had to wear
to get here,
to a place so near
to the stars…
I’m thinking about my father
and how he would have enjoyed smoking cigars
and drinking beer
He would have been proud…
I believe I’m where I want to be,
but there are other places I need to be.
There are all sorts of hats I need to wear,
all sorts of shoes I need to fill,
and so on,
and so forth.
And there are dreams I need to kill,
all sorts of destinies I need to fulfill,
and so on,
and so on forever, it seems.
Smoking a cigar on the terrace,
I’m texting a friend
whose cigar didn’t burn as well as mine
And doesn’t this remind me of
something incomprehensible called
and how lucky I am to possess it?
I’m getting hints of earth.
I’m thinking, “I’ll get a lot of it
when they finally bury me.”
I’m getting hints of maple and honey.
This is how sweet life tastes right now.
And now and then, tonight,
I’m refilling my glass,
and I will do so until
I have no more dreams to kill
and no more to remember,
until it’s time for me to sleep.