#poem, Sulphur Breath and Nicotine…

SULPHUR BREATH AND NICOTINE

Sulphur breath and nicotine

No more water, no more beer,

The snake you wrap around your neck

Has kissed you,

Two times,

One kiss per cheek,

A little growl

And you grab your keychain from the rain clouds

That blew past

Like scoundrels on dark alleys

And junkies that crowd your living room

Shooting candy canes

And listening to Buck Owens

You grow hair on your back

And why does whiskey come out of your bathroom sink

When you asked for vodka?

And Ringo knew a man who sailed the seas,

And Mick went down on a Black chick,

Brown sugar’s always sweet,

Like monkeys on gorillas

So don’t believe it when you see it

Your eyes are filled with marmalade

And your skin is stained with the toxic fumes

Of that man’s cigar

The one that’s stomping on an insect

Crawling on the kitchen walls

And the band is raging in the street

Next to your auntie’s little brothel

Where lives your brother

And we are the brotherhood of man,

No?

No!

There’s no space you gullible sardine!

We’re all alone,

If you don’t believe me, ask the little girls from Sweden

Locked in your pop’s garage,

They saw a Hollywood movie

And a tour took them to the basement where the

Men landed on the moon before

Sipping on a Cola Light

And smoking Camel cigarettes without filters

Because the filters were stained with your moma’s lipstick

Red

Because you’re tired of soft porn,

Soft soat,

Soft cushiony seat on the station wagon

Rescued from the memories of well dressed couples

Seeking admission to the cleanest toilet that a roadside

Gas station can provide.

I fill my lungs with air to scream your name

But you’re so deaf…so still…remain,

But the sulphur rises from the tears and holes on your

Halston jacket

While you still savour the flavours of 1974

Thinking it’s still around that dark corner where a

Paranoid orang-utan dances wildly to a tune by

James Brown

While Obama looks through the trash bin he managed to save

From the next one to occupy the house

And he finds a watermelon seed

And considers his next good deed…

And we all ran

Because it looks like rain

And when it rains

It all remains the same.

I mean, John said it man,

Got to be true…

C.2025 – Bodo Vespaciano – 25 AUG 2025 –