Into the room he enters
like a sudden dust storm
filling lungs, ears, eyes
with cigarette stench.
Probably even noticeable
when driving behind his car
with windows rolled down.
Smoky smog permeates
every sensory monitor cringing,
recoiling in self-preservation mode.
Neighbors near his house
think it’s burning down
perpetually, and no longer look.
If they perceive a whiff
of fresh air, do they remember
how to breathe deep and cleanse
the sooty residue clinging,
clinging, always clinging,
and does the smoker man
cough and wonder
what that smell is?