Apt.

The smoke of so many cigarettes wafts through the brain,
each of them puffed furiously within and without the lungs.
Collectively representing the twenty-something’s angst,
unified frustration, addiction to the white pillar buzz
that comes from the top of the head, as if each of them
were slowly becoming their own cravings.
Once the body has been inhaled completely through the butt,
the fire in the soul is stamped out with the toe of a
rubber souled shoe. Apt.
Then the laughter and the quiet chatter,
what follows the entropic pathway of the smoke
up through the air, into the windows above,
to me.

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