Smoking In Los Angeles Poem by Charles Monroe

No smoking signs are everywhere I look
Except in the Kitchen; I smoke while I cook
A hot-dog/ quesadilla with the white cheese
That melts away all while I smoke as I please.
Cigarette in ear, near frozen beer
Rolled mango wraps drop greens on the gear
It aint that severe; its all relativity
A madgenius' own curricular activity
Too much negativity, traverse with the broke
I got this sign telling me that I can't smoke.
A joke it must be, Graffitti on its surface
A way to tell the city: I dissaprove your service.
I'm smoking in Los Angeles Arco Gas stations
Right next to the pump filling up my frustrations
No one seems to notice the ash on the tip
Flick it away while gripped by the lip
A cognac sip and a hit where I may
Smoking near No Smoking signs in L.A.
Doing that upscale stale immitation
Smoking and providing my intoxication
Second hand smoke is a smoke that's been lit
Then passed on for the next man to hit.
Second hand man whistlin' Ave Maria
standing outside of the cervezeria
'Excuse me my friend, can't you read the sign? '
I said, 'no Sir, forgive me. I'm smoking. You mind! ? '
They print about two hundred signs each day
While poor children starve, and I smoke, in L.A.


P.X
7/30/13
227am