THE DOCTOR SAID
I would
DIE
If I didn’t stop
smoking
that cigarette
trailing smoke
across my morning mug
of Jamaica Blue Mountain
that exotic Gauloise
in its chic French blue pack
that black tabac held
in my slender silver holder
at intermission
or at a tiny marble table
while sipping chilled white wine
from a glistening crystal stem
that Salem
dangling
ashes
over the
Italian
blue and white
Carpano
ashtray
my deeply inhaled
oval Regent
while listening
to
Mozart’s A Minor Sonata
Monk’s Epistrophy
Frank Sinatra
in the wee small hours
the Benson & Hedges
snaking
tendrils
of
sultry
smoke
after
having sex
or
making love
that stale stub
of a Marlboro
snatched
from a crowded ashtray
at 3 in the morning
He said
“YOU WILL DIE”
if I smoked
the cigarette
bought at the
all-night deli
on Broadway
or the one
from the Gem Spa
on St. Marks
or the one
picked out
of the carton
from the North Carolina
truck stop
the doctor said
“YOU WILL DIE AND
TURN YOUR CHILD INTO
AN ORPHAN”
SO
I
QUIT
***
In addition to a lifelong love affair with words, Judith Pine Bobé has worked in theatre, dance, music, radio and television and in an assortment of related areas.Her piece,"Sideffects," created especially for The Inner City Theatre and Dance Ensemble, was performed in both New Jersey and New York. Her poetry has appeared in journals such as Lips and the Ever Dancing Muse and she has been a featured poet at many metro-area venues, including the Lower East Side Arts Festival and the New Years Day Poetry Marathon at CBGB. She has recently written the liner notes for "All About Love," a jazz vocalist's CD, which will be released in the fall of 2007.She has been a consultant to the New York State Council on the Arts and a grants panelist for the New Jersey State Council on the Arts. Her e-mail address is: jpinebobe@comcast.net.
