Philip Morris (A Poem)

I met Philip Morris
In a cloud of smoke
He said he was an angel
I was sure it was a joke

If you owned a train
Called Destination Death
The question in my mind
Is would you ride on it yourself?

Morris won’t you tell me
Your product’s hot as hell
But if I want to join
Do I have to hurt myself?

In a wink he offered me
A whiskey and a fag
Said boy, it’s up you
If you take a little drag

But Sir, I stared him down
I said I think they taught in school
That God made my body
And I shouldn’t be a fool

The train it was a-startin’
To pull itself along
Light filtered through the windows
And I heard a distant song

He said I’m not the monster
And even if I am
Your ticket’s in your pocket
You’re no more innocent

My friend, he said to me
Why did you dream me up?
You gave me the authority
To meddle with your luck!

I said Morris won’t you tell me
If I need someone to blame
Can we pretend we never talked
Now I understand the game?

The train roared on
His voice in the wind
Said you were born this way my friend
You have already sinned

In the hazy dizziness
I looked down at my feet
And realized I was sitting
In the engine driver’s seat!

Mark Urso

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