Wire down on Sixth Avenue
can’t get across the street
where Rite Aid keeps my antidepressants

Hot weekends I stay inside
with my medicated cocktails
I’ve picked up Moby Dick again
college copy     dead fish     stiff and yellow

My college lover’s tongue
tasted like peppermints
his major was animal husbandry
he became a dairy farmer in upstate New York

I could have been the wife of a dairy farmer
last week when I went to the fortune teller
she gave me back my money
closed my palm and made the sign of the cross

I can’t shake off the feeling that zombies
are following me     it’s the antidepressants
my therapist says

She says the new dosage will take some time to kick in
if I could get across Sixth Avenue
I could start the dosage
but the fucking wire is too big
for the chronically depressed to cross over