Cigars

Cigars

 

 

Men celebrate special events

with cigars. Fat

phallic and brown,

cylinders hang from their shirt

pockets, hands or mouths,

making smoke clouds.

 

“Gross,”  I say at this moment

but then I’m a woman who

only tried them as rebellion

and stunk up an entire room

as the smoke adhered to my

clothing. Excuse me, I digress.

 

So, when my children were born,

I wouldn’t remember if someone

handed my husband a cigar

or not. I was pooped out,

having done the work.

Not that the event was not worth celebrating

but face it, fellas,

try pushing a bowling ball

out of your anal canal

and see how you feel.

You probably wouldn’t be smoking

even if the doctor did permit it.

Having the big C after labor

 is even worse.

Smoking will kill you.  So will living.

 

For women, celebrating takes place

after the event,

after the pain,

the healing,

the sleep deprivation,

the emptying of the breast

for the first time.

 

It takes place in small

increments like small

puffs of smoke until

your children say, “Mama,”

hug you, makes successes

of their lives. 

 

It’s okay guys. Go smoke your cigars. Smoking beats farting.

Image

~ by dianeklammer on March 28, 2013.

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