his yellowed hands
shake
as he taps out
a cigarette

a coffin nail

he wheezes
to himself
as he places
the butt
between lips
striking
a match
and sucking in
acrid smoke

he stands
away from
the door
hacking
blue clouds
into the sky
as he watches
the pretty
ladies with
blue hair

he sees me
and nods
before crushing
the butt
beneath
his worn out
work boot

i wonder
if his
soul is as
worn
as the sole
on his boot
as he
slowly
climbs
into
the cab of
his truck
one last glance
at the ladies
another smoke
already
burning
as the road
becomes a blur
the miles
racking up
as life
takes its
toll
the next chapter
writing itself
in tar and
carcinogenic
wondering.