Smoking: A Poem

by Frank O'Hara

The blue plumes drift and
sway before my eyes-against my

grey skies they are quite blue,
perhaps merely gasps of ether

and disappointment fitfully
escaping from a covered heart--
caught, mirrored instantly, a
breath of these thin tourmalines,

a grey heart's horizon of

silence, a shadowy cancan line--


Photo: Cigarette Smoke from ForceOutProducts.com