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I love my cigarettes The pleasure, sticks I’m tellin’ you Coffin nails You’re calling them It simply isn’t true They increase my confidence It’s the nicotine You see A happy drug you understand My doctors Said to me So I keep, smoking I don’t care They are helpin’ with my flair Love lookn’ at My King Size pack While reclinin’ on my back So spare me the lectures My tobacco she’s real fine Virginia that’s my sweetheart’s name My lovely concubine : ) ©david byrne july ‘12

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

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Date: 7/13/2012 7:08:00 AM
Wow where did this week go? I am reading some amazing poetry this morning. It was a pleasure to read yours and I thank you for sharing it David. Have a great weekend and I will be back Monday to read more. Love, Carol
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Date: 7/13/2012 5:14:00 AM
Love the unique twist in the end lines. The poem achieves the reason for its writing, that is to declare the love for smoking and its perceived benefits ("helping with my flair") and the personification of it in "Virginia" the "lovely concubine". Brilliant!
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