NaPM April 05 2016

[Todd]

My Smoking Offends You

I could see it in your Goody Adams smile.
This park bench is Salem, and I’m reminding you 
that you’re the one that needs fire.
The whole world burns, but I’m responsible
for the icebergs melting, for the ozone layer,
for your child’s asthmatic cough.
If I dipped this cigarette in peanut butter, 
you’d probably shower me in epinephrine
I’d have so many pens sticking out of me,
I’d look like a grade school shooting gallery.
Why stop there? I’m sure this cloud I’m breathing
on you causes autism, has something to do with GMOs,
and the death of the honey bee. I’m selfish.
That’s why I no longer sit in your restaurants,
or fly on your airplanes. You won’t be satisfied 
until you regulate pleasure like car emissions 
in your chastity belt generation. No,
I’m not afraid to die. I stare at death,
I count each of his teeth, and then ask for a light.