Hiding My Cigarettes

9:00pm on the dot And I materialize on the spot: A Benson ‘n’ Hedges spot I would at it stop On a fairly spent night To enact a scene not right; Raven-Black for stupid actions The Pitch-Black unwise options; Christ, I’m sure in the sky No flesh to ask me “why?” Many Million True Miles away, Who, then, shall give me away? Jesus alone digesting the scene, More in his Daddy’s Heaven a sin; This, perfectly okay by me Like hot or cold Chinese tea… I light my patent stick Twenty Naira qualifies me to pick For stylish releases of clouds of smoke; A fresh inhaling and try to not choke; Clearly a stick That had been making me sick But with an index and middle finger victory sign Why won’t smokers over coughs pine? Often like I had won some contest My lungs exposing to crazy tests At Muslims’ Kaduna hiding my cigarettes And they could not be sighted from minarets.