Featured Poet: Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

HIT AFTER HIT

The cigarette dangled in your mouth.
You took hit after hit.
Your fingers held it like if it was pure gold,
like if it was a special woman.
You savored each puff
for hours and hours. Your hair
smelled of tobacco and
what seemed to smell like seaweed.

You loved the sea.
You loved to walk on the beach.
The Pacific Ocean’s breeze
carried your cigarette smoke back
and forth. You brought your camera
with you and a six-pack of light
beer. It was the life you lived.

© 2008Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal/West Covina, CA