A round pillbox rolled from under the backseat of my Opel station
Cost Plus, I thought when I saw it, an Indian import,
with oblong insets of vermillion plastic, curious jewels.
I pried the recalcitrant lid open with the edge of dime. Nothing.
Not a thing.
Carleton or one of them must have dropped it when
we drove down to South San Gabriel
earlier that day to score.
I thought for sure I was going to find something I wanted inside.
The empty box tumbled around on the floor of the backseat for at least
two more years.
forward anywhere lines