Transient 2.0

You hitch a ride with a kid in a white Caddy in the Rockies

and when you pass the cop car at the Park gate, he relaxes,

brushes back his long greasy hair and says,”Wow, I was worried

’cause I stole this car – got a toke?”

 

Beaten up picking fruit in Vernon, you wait broken nosed

shivering beside the highway after they throw you out of the

emergency ward and a guy screeches up in a New Yorker and says

“Started drinking in Calgary, woke up in Vancouver – want a

toke?”

 

Leaving Regina in a dust storm, you have your foot on the dash

holding in the cracked, taped window and the chick in the back

seat taps your shoulder and says. “Here’s the last toke”

 

Your wife picks you up at the abandoned paper towel factory

in Calgary and you go to the bar, where she tells you how

she lost the kid, and the gay biker beside you leans over

and says, “Hey, looks like you guys could use a toke”

 

Drinking in a squat in Regina, an argument over pit bulls

is interrupted by the city bulls, who kick open the door

and stomp in just as you’re trying to have a toke.

 

Then later, you see the informer drinking in a slum in

Toronto (you hear after he choked to death in a holding

cell) and he asks you “Want to buy a toke?”

 

Sitting with your back to the wall in a biker bar in

Indianapolis, a guy with young hair and old eyes asks

you if you want to step outside and have a toke.

 

Fishing for roaches in the Hotbox Cafe watching the tattooed

tides of Kensington Market ebb and flow around you and

you finally roll one up and a sidewalk artist comes up

and asks “Can I have a toke?”

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