# Cigar - The Poem

By [Allen Taylor](https://paragraph.com/@allentaylor) · 2021-12-07

---

By Allen Taylor

Drawn out deep, like the upward concerns of an intern. Captains delight in late night fatties, blue skies dressed in vanilla, and star- crossed lips ladled with love stains. Free soil built this land. Death

may dance in the sun but I'm taxed. Hand me a bill of sale, this whore has the whole damned country by the balls. The king may know his legacy, but where are his clothes, mind you?

The Right Wing spins a new face while the Party reminisces and the world is made safe. For

democracy is a costly business, liberty a puff of smoke in a courtroom.

Battlefield worms like us seek security in slow-poppin' cherries and close calls,

rockets red glaring past our bedtimes. I'm fed the hell up with Hillians casting lots, forgetting to shed light on this year's stale, burned-out two-party topic.

First published at [TheNewVerse.News](https://newversenews.blogspot.com/2008/01/cigar.html)

---

*Originally published on [Allen Taylor](https://paragraph.com/@allentaylor/cigar-the-poem)*