Ode to joy

Stuck in Earl’s Court
in a car, in traffic.

Nothing moving but crankshafts
and fan belts in the blistering heat.

I see a man on a doorstep,
stained from the day’s toil.

He sets a tin of cold beer
on the parapet wall
and rolls a cigarette.

Delicate fingers,
just the right amount of pressure.

He pinches the tobacco from the ends
and drops it back into his pouch,
puts the cigarette in his mouth
reaches for the matches,
then thinks better of it
and pauses.

He reaches down,
picks up the beer,
cracks it open
the sets it back
on the parapet wall.

Now he lights his cigarette,
takes a mighty pull
and inhales deeply.

In one smooth movement
he removes the cigarette from his lips with one hand
while he reaches for the beer with the other.

Another mighty pull,
this time on the can.

Then he throws his head back and exhales.

Oh joy!

4-7-10

fromagreenhill.com