Damn This Poetry

Last night I started smoking again I chose the corner in my yard where I felt the safest Under the flood light I could see everything and the glaring made me invisible Somebody was running a bath children were crying over the street and my neighbor beat his wife again The coal burned in saffron red each puff confirmed my breath and the death of an approaching moment My wife was calling for me and I did not want to respond you see she was worried about the 14 years I was going to squander on the box The light fused, the children stopped crying Bob Seger sounded up in a bathroom The beating next door was resolved with screams of love making "There you are," my wife said and I thought to myself "damn this poetry"