He was carrying a cigarrete trailing nicotine smoke.

I recognized him; he was on a hospital schema.

His name is popular; his name is Mr. Emphezema.

He was on the porch smoking a big fat cigar.

He seemed to be unaware that his lungs were looking like fifty-two year old tar.

After he was done he started washing his car.

One of these days hes going to smoke one too many; hes going to go too far.

When he smokes hes just trying to get bad memories out of his mind.

Subconsciously hes asking the Devil, "Wont you be kind?"

The Devil responded "Certainly, while youre young and able.

But Ill stop as soon as youre in your middle years and on an operating table."