Rainy Days and Sundays

 It’s gloomy and threatens to rain, here in Port Orange, Florida. I’m on a cigarette and coffee binge, my own C&C (Music) Factory. Stahl is rubbing off. My Luckies are stacked on top of my Newport’s, hard pack on soft pack, A Tale of Two Cigarettes, Romeo and Juliet. “Can you spare some change?” Can you spare me cancer at my own hands, so used to gripping soft sticks and flicking ashes. I see a Poem ahead. I see a writer, dead. Christopher Hitchens would be proud, minus the whiskey ( or Scotch? Seems more sophisticated). 

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