Cigarettes after Sex

 

Backstage 60 x 60 x 2 cm mixed media on canvas

 

 

 

WHAT’S NEXT TO GODLINESS?

 

When about to lose your mind

you could always meditate, or

contact the congregation’s help desk,

bend your priest’s ear, seek mullah or rabbi

or someone else holier than thou.

But most often you just crawl     

off to bed after an apocalypse

of your own confabulation (stubbing your

 

toe en route or stepping in cat vomit) 

thinking I will never get up again,

not worth it, world’s too cruel, then later

mumbling “thanks, man” to your avatar 

for orange juice and coffee. Something warm

with butter on it. A slightly rank but fluffy robe

rubbing thin skin each time you light a cigarette.

 

You live through a legendary madeleine   

event in real time when from your    

bedroom window you observe a student nurse

splashing in her own baptismal font

and who, rinsing off with a sea sponge, reminds

you of what your stepmother from North

Carolina always used to say: cleanliness is next to godliness.