Drinking too much
Every time I take the 0
I get off at the stop where I hailed a cab for us, and he cut across four lanes of traffic.
I walk past the Mexican restaurant, where we used to drink margaritas.
I look across the empty parking lot, where we used to cut across
those two blocks to the studio apartment
that was never mine. I walk past the curving sidewalk
and stare into the black abyss of
the tree stump, where she held my hand
as I threw up--so long ago.