Cemetery Gates

It all began when I quit smoking
I knew that was butchering my alter-ego
literally
When I became more health conscious
and started pussyfooting about everything I eat
started tracking changes in my high blood pressure
like an impotent man stalks his wife
reading the sodium count on the labels behind the Campbell's
as if they were women, bending over before me
awaiting patiently for me to decide which one to fuck first
always ready, with a can opener, to eat yet one more flavorless meal
until the writer finally collapsed
drowned in the fake shopping mall air
overwhelmed by the constant time demands of a steady relationship
that's it
maybe it was when I stopped having drama filled narcotic romances
it was insane, but it was fun
it was killing me, but it gave me something to write about
after all, we all know we're going to get a few thorns on our hands
that's the price for the forbidden fruit
the apple Adam ate; he'd never regret

But now life is different
I'm loved and fulfilled and complete
and there's an equilibrium, a tranquility
an expected routine and confidence between mates
like the monotonic hanging plant that grows like moss
right here, inside of the cemetery gates