Leaves of Ink: Last Cigarette by Mark Tulin

Leaves of Ink: Last Cigarette
— Read on www.leaves-of-ink.com/2019/02/last-cigarette.html

Last Cigarette

 Mark Tulin

– –
Under the elevated train,
surrounded by steel girders
and screeching wheels,
cold water drops
down from the rafters
onto my head.

I never complain.
I never cry.
I bathe in the water,
feeling blessed
by the abandoned angels
above the dark red sky.

I watch the traffic lights
that never changes.
Traffic lights
that flicker and sway
with the wind
and rain.

I hear bruised women cry,
mistreated like barking dogs.
Johns with black eyes,
getting rolled by pimps
in dark alleyways.

I feel another raindrop on my dusty pate
as I hear the rumble of a passing train.
I know my life is how it’s supposed to be.
I’ve come to accept this plight
as I take a drag from my last cigarette.