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Women To A Smoke

Women to a smoke

By the setting sun

With a warm scotch

In an easy breeze


Can’t let the smoke burn too long

Or too hot

Not too many drags

Or life will rot

Out of touch

Out of line

Out of prime

Yellow teeth

Rotten breath

Stinky shirt

Coughing blood

Choking spit

Pounding chest

Lung cancer

Next you know

Certain death

I like my women like a cigar or a cigarette

One every few evenings, and I’m set

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