I imagine I am drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette.
You are curled up in my bed, dreaming.
I am drinking coffee and smoking
because I am a tortured artist
and must be unhealthy.
You are curled up and dreaming
because you are coquette
and forgotten among the libraries
of the 1920s.
I imagine I am smoking a cigarette
and living in the 1920s
because these are times when America
regretted nothing and danced
in the streets.
I am smoking and drinking coffee.
My mouth does not smell great
and there is little I can do about it
because dentistry in the 1920s
is not a priority.
You turn over in your sleep.
I watch you turn over
then return to my writing.
My typewriter ribbon is dry.
I must replace it soon.
I can barely make out the words
I have written.
This work by Scott Stewart is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.