Hey Cuz,
come over and have a bowl of rice with me.
white rice, rinsed twice …….made in a pot on the stove, not a rice-cooker.

I got Heinz ketchup or China Lily soya sauce if you want it.
We could open a can of Libby’s brown beans too,
and maybe there’s some bannock left,
probably not.

We could sit on the floor while we eat,
share a carton of Apple juice and watch tv.
You’ll say, “Hey did you hear that new Lil Wayne song?”
I’ll say, “Yeah that shit was off the hook.”
You’ll say, “For shizall, my nizzall!”
and then we’ll cackle like crows,
chucking made-up gang signs at each other.

Later we’ll walk down to Bunny’s to bum a smoke.
She’ll get mad at us, but share anyways.
Next time she might need one.

Our bellies full and a fresh cigarette to share,
we’ll walk down to the river and watch the moon swim by.
Talking about dip-netting, you’ll tell me some lies.
I’ll believe you.
It’s only polite.

Then tomorrow we’ll ride brother’s dirt-bike, together
along the highway
looking for bottles
to buy some more rice
so days like yesterday don’t have to end.

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