A Sunken Ship Named Benzedrine

by Melanie Browne

At Midnight I feed the dog,
I read Kerouac
to imaginary chickens,

they cluck at the
mobiles called
stars,

They follow me
as I drive to
to the 24 hr
pharmacy for
cashews,
a yellow highlighter,
a gallon of milk

when I come
out of the store
they are lingering,
trying to
rent videos
from the Redbox
machine,

a horror film,
direct to video

I whistle at them
tell them it's time
to go,the streets 
are slick, it's 2 am