…but I never smoked?

The screen PDF is of cheap paper
with the grey tired print of a duplicate
made relevant by a name written in a space.

Once, this would have been dictated
by a consultant smoking a pipe, tamping
tobacco down and relighting between words.

The secretary scribbling, worried about
frozen dinners and having to explain
shop meals to a man who worked.

Linen paper with embossed type landing
on the mat in a sealed franked envelope
for a weighing of consequences.

Now a button is pressed on the way
to making tea and it arrives with a ping
in the list of discount opportunities.

Published in Gold Dust

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