Together, running, we jump the queue behind
A small blonde girl.
A black cap turned backwards.
White adidas trainers.
He takes it from her without hesitation
A deep puff, puncturing a small light in the air
Like a torch it won’t go out.
Mate, this is herbs.
He shoves the whole thing, still lit,
On the tip of his tongue vertical as a lighthouse,
Munching like a cow.