smoke

 

the boy/man thrives

until dreams fail to pay the bills

the man loses the boy/

stands very much alone

 

makes his living cutting wood

in oak and hickory forests

ill-suited to the work, it is

too hard, and the bar too near

 

oblivion is his only option

or, the option he chooses

not the first to do so, all he

has to do is look around the room

 

it isn't a bad way to go

it's numbing, and losing yourself

bit by bit, a leg here, an eye there

until what's left hardly matters

 

the boy/man wouldn't have

envisioned this, but the man

can envision nothing else

not even his boy/self

 

he wreaths himself in smoke

cigarettes he rolls, drinks

and smokes, works

when he has to

 

dies a bit too young

there are those who judge him

but few, for who can be bothered

to notice, much less care

 

 





Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 190 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2026-07-23 at 16:53

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Most relatable and genuinely articulates what has eluded me for years. Applauded 👏🏻🕊️
2026-08-02


Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Your poem has been chosen to be featured on the home page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!
2026-07-27


Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
A very fine piece. It reminded me of my father who in his early days was part of work gangs dropped in the bush for weeks to fell trees and cut them with two-person crosscut saws. He had tales of working, smoking and drinking just like your protagonist.
2026-07-25


Melinda K Zarate The PoetBay support member heart!
jim, I found this to be a very powerful poem. The inner dialogue between the man/boy is matter-of-fact, a person who sees no other options, all his dreams falling away like pieces of his body.
2026-07-23