elegant bachelor

I begin fingering the ashtray.

One of those nights.

I shake the dust free and pluck out some roaches.

Laid out on a supermarket circular-
5 golden brown beauties
not dead, resting their eyes.

I pinch a couple down the middle and crack
them open between my thumb and knuckle.

The rest require surgery with little scissors
and the knife from my desk drawer,
I make precision cuts to honor the donors
and make use of their guts.

Pork chops are on sale, ham hocks are half-off.

Clumps of brown and green, crumbles of black matter
rolled in a paper with a pinch of tobacco for filler.

Ashen complexion. Acrid confection. User discretion.

I smoke it and ignore the life I’ve chosen.