Offloading

by James Finnegan

transporting a truckload of troubles
from Goose Bay north of Nanaimo
to Francis Jack’s cabin south of Victoria City
I feel like I’m in a road movie
terpaulin flapping in the wet wind
a loose piece of knotted rope
beating against the rear number plate
not regular enough to be a knell
to parting day
but an early morning irregular beat
a long time ago I hitched a ride
from Chemainus where Elsie Bob lived
and the guy who gave me a lift
said that he sold bibles to people like me
just before I decided to leave his car
and seek a different lift
this truck I am driving is dark blue
like the colour of the sea on the left
it’s symbolic driving my troubles south
to light a fire outside Uncle Jack’s cabin
I don’t need to know what the troubles are
enough to let them go up in smoke
another memory from way back
driving down the west side of the island
someone named Annie asked me to buy a Coke
so I buy two Cokes and she throws her drink
over the windscreen to dissolve the grease
I briefly feel like a jerk
with a straw in a cleaning agent
when I get to the cabin I remember
Francis Jack burned it down a few years back
but I light a fire anyway
and ghost dance with Sitting Bull
I then ring Livinia in Goose Bay
who asks me to come home for supper
so I head back in the truck
now coloured sunflower yellow
like the setting sun
and I have no idea
where the terpaulin has gone