The Smoker

Where there's smoke,
There's desire...to leave the room.

We see that loving spouses are obliged a trade to make,
Having to deal with pipes and tobacco that men so often take.
The stuff of their habit is filthy smoke,
They'll blow it out of nose and mouth 'til we choke,
Yes, smoke is their every desire;
As though burning inside them is some infernal fire.

A smelly vapour is all the good
They give their giddy heads to feed
So while their wives lament this odious need;
In exchange for their tasty food
The men do give them smoke,
And smoke for drinks also:
Mercy, is it any wonder our whole society up in smoke doth go?

Men generously give their wives smoke,
Something on which even their dog will choke.