The cigarette tastes like cherries

I stand outside with two old strangers who give me a light with an old strange Zippo

That’s a funny cigarette

Yes it is

I bought a pack for strange reasons

I even walked there, alone in Ohio

where the fall was ending and winter started to step in

I discovered this with my cigarette and jacket

As I smoked with two old strangers who gave me a light with their old strange Zippo

There was a beginning to this cigarette

Somewhere back in Texas with an accent

The strangest of them all

Where all the words were mixed with half truths but I didn’t care

Back in the country with those lying bluebonnets, nestled in the hills

like pools of water, like something they weren’t

From that small town down yonder north

but you stayed in the town by the river where you wrecked your car into things

that didn’t move 

And we took it souther still, to the other river with the jazz by the side

Drinking liquor because we asked what the house bourbon was

And in Ohio, the old couple asks me more

as they smoke they tell me to quit smoking

So I put out my cigarette and throw away the pack

And back upstairs I lay in bed waiting for the world to stop spinning

And tasting nothing but cherries