such thoughtless pleasure derives
from tending the small fire of a cigarette,
from observing this class of whiskey and ice,
the cold rust I am sipping.
Billy Collins, Bar Time
this is how i go about it:
i take a fresh pot of tea into my study and close the door.
then i remove my clothes and leave them in a pile
as if i had melted to death and my legacy consisted of only
a white shirt, a pair of pants, and a pot of cold tea.
then i remove my flesh and hang it over a chair.
i slide it off my bones like a silken garment.
i do this so that what i write will be pure,
uncontaminated by the preoccupations of the body.
Billy Collins on writing
waiting (by Jana Romanova)