We got blasted drunk the night before.
You and I Sal, you and I. We've grown bored of Emeryville.
So we hopped the train out of that dimming town.
Two one-ways, $30 spent on 2 Amtrak papers with our future written in blue ink.
We woke up on cold benches 9 am, the heat slowly creeping from above the green canopy, outside the adobe mound that was the Davis train station. It was E Street, and a few blocks down you Sal, you paid for our breakfast in the Black Bear Diner.
Sitting in the grass on the front-lawn of some sorority with chipped white shutters we had to figure out what we wanted to do.
You and I Sal, you and I-- someplace, and shitfaced-- we remembered that our girlfriends their moms and our moms had always believed in "home is where the heart is."
Never drink again, at least with little money in our pockets.