It was a brisk and foggy San Francisco evening in late February. Kevin was enjoying a Kentucky mule in a craft cocktail joint, Rye, that boasted Tenderloin views and Nob Hill prices. A red-lipsticked girl with a full glass of wine scribbling in her notebook caught his eye. When he asked, she said she was writing a poem. Months later, Kate confessed it had in fact been a shopping list. In any case, they talked and drank and had their first kiss the next morning near a bookcase at Hotel Rex before walking into the fresh morning sun to get breakfast at Sutter Pub. || The air was surprisingly clear & crisp on a San Francisco night in mid-February. Kate was finishing something pink from the red-lipstick-stained rim of a high ball glass when Kevin walked in. He noticed her scripting in a notebook the way you watch an eclipse for the first time: full of wonder with a desire to be closer. He asked what she was writing, and when she said, "a poem," he sat down, ordered his bourbon neat and her next drink. That night, after hours of conversation, they kissed while Lana Del Rey sang over quiet speakers. The next day, Kate confessed her poem was a shopping list, and they wrote new poems over pancakes at Golden Coffee Shop on Sutter St. before deciding to walk through the fog of Nob Hill to Hotel Rex to ask when the next silent reading night would be. Their origin depends on who you ask, but the rest is history.

https://www.sfchronicle.com/bayarea/heatherknight/article/One-happy-story-S-F-poet-spins-magic-with-15676756.php