- people I met while I roamed the streets in my youth... I think these things are popping in mind 'cause the office where I work is right downtown... where all of those things happened... so I have a lot of reminders, I guess... 

Bouba was 27... way too old for us at the time... 

There was also the morning

We met Bouba that was memorable,

To this day, I see it all so clearly.

Syl and I were sitting on the Bedo stairs

On rue St-Jean around 6 am finishing our LSD trip

We'd been giggling about for most of the night.

And all of a sudden, we heard a loud incident

Of someone hurling violently down the street,

The guy must have been at least 500 meters away!

But oh, it was loud and violent, we felt squeamish.

We shortly after saw him stagger his way toward us,

And once he reached us, he of course stopped for a chat.

He was so wasted, and what a sight he was:

Dread-locks sticking around his head, a bit dusty,

His eyes a bright yellow, and dressed as a hippie.

He could hardly stand and was chancelling on the spot,

Talking away, introducing himself, and retelling his night.

Despite his state, he seemed pretty peppy and enthusiastic.

So that's how we came into contact with Bouba,

And thereafter, he was a regular presence around us.

Obviously a hard-core drug user, but what a character.

Don't know how many times we found him out of his head,

A few grams of pure PCP or shots of heroin were his thing,

And we'd be worried he wouldn't make it through the night.

Yet he always laughed,

The peace and love guy

Who was always positive.

That's Bouba.