283. Damn Those Cigarettes

The sun was high and the sea was flat. 

Sitting on the sand 

Felt the heat in my ass

I my hand was a white stick

Thin and certain

I had stopped for 2 years

I started again

Quitting is a fine thing to talk about when you are not doing it

​quit. I cant. 

The sticks are small but they are

They taste of ash and the end of things You look at them and you say, "To hell with these sticks."

You say it with your mouth, but your hands do not follow you.

​It is a simple thing to know that a thing is bad

But knowing is useless where nothing happens

What a man knows and what a man does are two different countries, and the border is hard to cross.

​The smoke went up straight in the still air.

It was a bad business, but it was my business.

I watched the blue line of the horizon and waited for the next one.