JIM TRAINER’S POEM OF THE WEEK

NICORETTE

day 3 without a smoke
I meet him at the bodega at dusk
“$30—25,” he corrects himself.
“Just trying to get rid of it.”
“Before she finds out it’s gone?”  I chide.
“Oh no she’s gone.”
There’s no humor in his face,
no humor in him at all
I ride up the hill with my bounty of workout gear
determined to forget
or just use what I remember.
Was a time I would’ve changed
everything for you
and now I just wanna see
how much I can reclaim
I was a man and I stood for something
but all my conviction’s in the wind
the heavy curtains of grief are lifting
furtively moving into my third act

𝑆𝑈𝐵𝑆𝐶𝑅𝐼𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝑂 𝐽𝐼𝑀 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑅’𝑆 𝑃𝑂𝐸𝑀 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑊𝐸𝐸𝐾

𝑆𝑇𝑅𝐼𝐷𝐸, 𝐽𝐼𝑀 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑅’𝑆 8𝑇𝐻 𝐹𝑈𝐿𝐿-𝐿𝐸𝑁𝐺𝑇𝐻 𝐶𝑂𝐿𝐿𝐸𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑃𝑂𝐸𝑇𝑅𝑌, 𝑁𝑂𝑊 𝐴𝑉𝐴𝐼𝐿𝐴𝐵𝐿𝐸 𝐴𝑇 𝐽𝐼𝑀𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑅.𝑁𝐸𝑇

𝑆𝑈𝑃𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇 𝐽𝐼𝑀 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑅’𝑆 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝑆𝑂𝑁𝐴𝐿 𝐽𝑂𝑈𝑅𝑁𝐴𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑀 𝑊𝐼𝑇𝐻 𝐴𝐶𝐶𝐸𝑆𝑆 𝑇𝑂 𝐿𝐼𝑉𝐸 𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆 𝑂𝐹 𝑃𝑂𝐸𝑇𝑅𝑌 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑆𝑂𝑁𝐺𝑆, 2 𝑃𝑂𝐸𝑀𝑆 𝐴 𝑀𝑂𝑁𝑇𝐻, 𝐿𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐴 𝑊𝐸𝐸𝐾𝐿𝑌 𝐶𝑂𝐿𝑈𝑀𝑁

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