“I await, still my great white-bear,” Chaulk begins Night Lunch, a somewhat rambling examination of self-identity while working aboard a freight-and-passenger ferry serving isolated Canadian communities. Introspective about the past, present, and future, and his Indigenous roots, Night Lunch is a vicarious trip. In this travel-limited era, it’s a great hook. Chaulk’s strongest stanzas delve past superficial workaday rapport, hinting at the mythopoetic. Chaulk seeks the same certainty of self that Thomas Wolfe described in Look Homeward, Angel about Americans being clearest about who they are while journeying.