Up a grassy
hill,
down by a
marble gravestone:
we sit on
snow covered
grass
and pass
a bottle of
liquor.
A foghorn
wails into
the night.
I take
a hard swig-
I gag,
wet my lips
and set
the bottle
back on
cold ground.
In the distance
a car
rumbles past
as I forget
who I am.
