the smoker and me and L.S./M.F.T.

of my father, assassinated by the American Tobacco Co. on 6/1/1982

          he said:  "go get me some Luckies"!

you'll find them resting at Chasidor Leo’s Variety Store

open for business across the street from the backstop.

      

the soft pack will hint of its sweet aroma in fine tobacco.

homeward, you'll raise the pack to your early nostrils
enjoying a whiff as I once did.

          he said:  "go get me some Luckies"!

the pack is seductive; its cellophane wrap
seems glazed in amber beneath the streetlight's incandescence.

It's the ripcord which sets the beauties free.
          he said:  "I will teach you".

igniting the earthy strands of tobacco, the dry
smoke corkscrews downward for the want of a lung to keep it company.

go get me some Luckies!

          he said:  "go get me some Luckies".

he said: "William, listen to your mother".
          she said:  "go get your father some Luckies".