I act as any good supplicant would wanting favor from their god.
I crawl on my belly like a worm.
I approach his hazy golden altar with anticipation and a pain
that starts in my temples and travels down my face toward my nose like sharpened knives sliding under my skin.
It wasn't always this way:
I have breathed unadulterated air in my time.
I never knew how sweet it was, at the time.
I didn't always need him!
Although he was always there.
Everybody smoked, come on!
My first sin:
I desired those totems of my god's affection;
Heavy bowling ball sized silver plated lighters.
100 year old delicately carved ivory holders.
Ceramic hippy ashtrays.
I craved a token from my god, to breathe out his own breath!
My second sin:
I toyed with my god, thinking him not able to
exert his leafy power over my life.
I thought I had become immune to his charms, once
tainted with his adoration.
So here I am again, after a rather lengthy separation.
Did I miss him in the meantime? Did I ever think of that
fiery altar, that phlegmy pit where we would play?
But I'm back my lover god, back
to bargaining with the knives
in my head
watching the precious smoke
coming out of my mouth
Thank you Don Haggerty for the photos!