Killing the Creature

I close my eyes
to listen to the grass growing
and the leaves' joyful laughing
after the cool rain stops
and I notice the twisting cloud of smoke
before it enters my lungs
the smoke rings
drifting in front of me with ease
I lick the drops of salty sweat
collecting on my upper lip
and push a curly lock out of my face
before writing this poem
with spiraled hands
and the sun's glare on my mind.
The blue space is clogged
with ashes from another time
but I keep dragging on the stink of swamp
killing Frankenstein's monster
to resurrect some semblance
of real life on a stormy night.