No Smoking

The bars are different now
Without the smoke
The old ambiance of Casa Blanca
Hazy dens of sophistication, of iniquity
Gone.
The new scene, Boy Scout meetings,
Sewing circles.

Imagine Warren Cleaver
With tank top and tattoos
Tending bar
And the Beaver
Ordering a Bud light.
That’s it
That’s the picture.

Everybody used to look great
Through the haze of
A hundred cigarettes.
The drinks tasted better then,
Or maybe our taste buds,
Smoked like so many hams,
Couldn’t tell the difference.

Now, in the pristine atmosphere
Of our politically correct city,
There is a clarity of vision.
The hunk you ask to your bed
Is the same guy you wake up to.
Adventure is dead.

The predictability – is nauseating
Where is the romance
Where is Paul Henreid, lighting
Two cigarettes, handing one
To Bette Davis.
An age lost
Now Voyager - Now Boring.

We have become as children
Protected from ourselves
No longer capable of making decisions
The committees of the informed
Instruct us, guide us,
Surgically remove our free will.
And we let them.



Bill – Oct 19, 2004