My entire litany of routines changed
When we went to Florida
An appropriate time to quit smoking

All my habits of life are warped
And unrecognizable, superfluous odd occurrence
Like peanuts for squirrels that are eaten by birds

I’ll put toothpicks in my mouth instead
And possible licorice, possible cloves
My mother kept cloves in her mouth

She quit smoking when I was born,
The doctor prescribed tranquilizers
Which would last her sixty-six years

Like me, she wrestled with depression and bad teeth
Cloves would cover her decayed breath
Her son would remind her of a pledge to change.