I remember whiskey
A flask in the back of a cab
San Francisco in the rain

And a calzone from the corner-store
Two-fifty and microwaved hot
Peel the plastic - orange, now off and
Scarf, Robin wants a bite.

The car angles into the parking space nose-diving into the curb and nearly nosing the white car ahead

A loaf of bread
And Skippy peanut butter
Three sandwiches back to back, scraping the brown off the folding knife with a soft, brown crust

A few more hours until the tow comes
A few more flask-fulls, a few more Koreans -
Not knowing what we are doing outside their flat.

We don't really, either, just that
This car does not go up hills, any longer
Just down.