Anti-Heroin Chic
  • Home
  • About
  • Blog
  • Music
  • Art
  • Comedy
  • About Our Contributors
  • Masthead
  • Issues
  • About our contributors - 2019
  • About Our Contributors - 2020
  • About Our Contributors - 2021
  • Home
  • About
  • Blog
  • Music
  • Art
  • Comedy
  • About Our Contributors
  • Masthead
  • Issues
  • About our contributors - 2019
  • About Our Contributors - 2020
  • About Our Contributors - 2021
Search by typing & pressing enter

YOUR CART

​

9/26/2020

Smoking Break by Louisa Campbell

Picture
                          Matt Niemi CC
Follow


​​Smoking Break


Sometimes it’s as good to suck in death as it is to breathe out stress. Outside the boot-scuffed service door around the back, we’d stand, slightly hunched, maybe one foot on the wall behind us. Some of us would squat down on our heels, stare vaguely at disgruntled dandelions or trampled cheese and onion packets, grit scrunching beneath our boots. As we arrived, we’d say, ‘right? or twitch our mouths in half a smile. This was our tribe, our clan. I loved the silky slip of Rizla from its dinky pouch, the meditative rolling of  Old Holborn on my knee. Some preferred ready-mades in gifty little boxes with the reassurance printed, priestly black, that SMOKING KILLS! Some of us lit votive matches, but if we were truly blessed, we owned a Zippo, felt that satisfying suck, heard the little magic clang as the lid flicked up its lighter fluid incense. Most of us used both hands to open Zippos; two palms cupped in supplication, as if the ship of our lives had already gone down and we were taking our chances in the lifeboats. Non-smokers walking by would keep their heads bowed so they couldn’t catch our eyes. Were they embarrassed at our rituals, our poorly-thought-out, quiet suicide? Or did they understand with every smoke-filled exhalation we were saying to the world, enough, enough, enough?

​
Picture
Louisa Campbell's mental health-related poetry pamphlets are The Happy Bus (Picaroon Poetry, 2017), and The Ward (Paper Swans Press, 2018). Her first full collection will be out with Boatwhistle Books in the Spring of 2021. She lives in Kent, England.

Maggie Sawkins link
10/2/2020 08:19:17 am

Love the observation in this prose poem. 'As of the ship of our lives had already gone down and we were taking our chances in the lifeboats.' Wonderful.

Lauren Tivey
10/2/2020 12:30:56 pm

Oh, that last line slayed me. Gorgeous piece!


Comments are closed.

    Author

    Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.

    Archives

    December 2024
    November 2024
    August 2024
    July 2024
    April 2024
    March 2024
    December 2023
    November 2023
    October 2023
    September 2023
    August 2023
    July 2023
    June 2023
    March 2023
    December 2022
    October 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    August 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.