One of my most recurring images is that of a man,
sitting on the pavement
a table with a single chair
Elbows on the table
one hand held upwards holding a cigarette
the other holding his head
weighed down, and slightly to one side.
His thoughts clearly consume him
as he consumes a cigarette
which already consumed a bit of his lips
and the tip of his fingers.
And so it goes on,
he sits there for hours,
thought after thought
one cigarette at a time
until there is nothing left of him
but an ashtray
sending bits of fumes
to tell of his passing there
and as the smoke blows away
so does he, leaving nothing behind but troubles.

Eddy Abi Younes