Pack of Cigarettes
Pack of Cigarettes
Sunday morning,
his usual spot
in front of the TV.
He’s not big
on church.
He justifies
this seat to himself.
“Why would I want
to sit with a bunch
of hypocrites?”
He picks up
his paper.
He reaches for his
pack of the cigarettes.
He’s been smoking
since he was sixteen.
Everybody smoked
back then.
Over the years,
he’s smoked Winston's,
Camels, even Marlboro’s.
He’s even rolled
his own.
He puts one
to his lip.
TV’s on,
A preacher
he watches sometimes
is talking gospel.
He’s preaching
on habits and slaves.
“Your a slave,
a slave to your habits!”
“A slave is not strong
enough to quit.”
“That’s all you’ll ever be!”
This irritates him,
“who does this man
think he is?”
“I ain’t nobody’s slave.”
He looks square into
the 20” black and white screen.
“I’ll show you preacher,
I ain’t nobody’s slave.”
He takes the unlit cigarette
from his lip.
Puts it back in the pack,
crushes the pack
into a little ball
and throws it in the trash.
“There you go,
I ain‘t ever gonna
smoke again.”
“I’ll show you preacher,
I ain’t nobody’s slave.”
It’s been forty years
since he made that promise.
Forty years he kept
that promise.
He ain’t nobody’s slave.
3-28-17
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