Marijuana - Page 17

this is a tale of two scvs
who one day gathered behind an orbital to hit the trees.
rolled up the metal sleeves, gauged the breeze and took flight instead of scouting for Z's and P's.
one of the two,
Larry,
started coughing and making a scene.
knocked a mineral patch off the map while reaching for his green.
didn't flinch or nothing but kept it lit and puffing,
sticking nugs where the minerals ought to go in.
the other gave him a nudge and then after a pass,
pointed to a geyser now fit to grab gas.
Larry scoffed at the crass then hit his own shit,
and heaved a hot yellow plume like he had his weapon refit.
then his buddy Carter hit it even harder,
and shot a lazy rocket off just like a marauder.
it hit a third scv.
square to the gut.
he keeled over coughing, and nearly died from the stuff.
got up to finish his depot--
dropped his metal trousers and forgot where all the pieces go.
after a moment he found it.
made a few circles around it.
whipped out his fusion cutter just to raze it like a stick of butter.
he wouldn't go back to the line now. he couldn't.
thought for half a minute.
caught up with Larry. booked it without leaving a footprint


by now the main was heavily populated.
and cliff to cliff Terran units propagated.
not a direction lay unmolested for more than a mile.
so the three bolted down the ramp in a single file.
that's when Carl saw a fourth SCV crack a smile. Johnny.
just finished the natural. and look at that. it was finally done.
he caught a whiff of the reefer and his ticker started to run.
managed to skate with a case of cold beer.
a bargaining chip to offer our three musketeers.


they took off again, now four to their line,
smoke grinding their chrome teddy bear suits to rinds.
a J went from the front to the back then from the back to the front.
and when it was out, Carter rolled a blunt.
they kept going like that, maybe for days.
dodging friends, dodging foes and all the time hitting haze.
then one day Carter dug for a pinch,
and came up with some spare change and loose lint.


you see, Carter's a miser without his portable geyser.
with no drugs on the map he had buy from Pfizer.
didn't dig pills
though, they filled his suit with sweat so he'd have to grow gills
so,
at long last they found a fresh main,
eight ripe patches and two geysers within range.
they built an entire city on blades of ember grain,
pitched tents to shield their bud from the rain,
taxed it to fund roads, schools, asylums for the insane.
minerals were no currency here.
what you wanted cost substance, and substance wasn't beer.


weeks went by and we saw the base thrive,
but Johnny's mental fell straight into a nose dive.
"I want the hot sweaty drills and the shiny blue hills.
no private property, responsibilities, paying bills.
look at your mules. they eat cannabis for fuel!"
Larry went to Johnny, "dood, what's the big deal?"
"since we left we haven't had a hot meal,
too much time to think and no water to drink, just the heinies i managed to steal."


Larry thought and said, "let's see what I've got packed.
damn.
there's just a few rax and a fac left in my sack."
"well, should we go back?"
"fuck that.
whether or not our main's under attack.
sure you haven't eaten but you took your life back."
"but don't you want a family some day? what about that?
not to mention I left my cigarettes, gold lighter and swiss army knife."
after a long beat, Larry drew an ornate fife.
and played an old Terran folk song for what seemed like Larry's whole life.
"fuck kids, fuck a wife.
breathe deep, dood, we live the scv life."