Drugstore Epiphany


The next thing you know you’re forty-nine

and standing in line at a drugstore, holding


a bag of bargain-brand coffee and a box of Benadryl

for the psoriasis you’ve been scratching since noon.


When the teenage cashier asks for your ID,

you glance at her like she removed her nose


from her face and plopped it on the counter beside

your bag of coffee and your box of Benadryl.


You wonder briefly if she thinks you’re planning

to speed-ball on caffeine and an antihistamine.


She wants to jot down your name for the police

in case you go “full-Cobain” with your purchase.


“It’s a store policy for the allergy meds,” she says

as if reading your thoughts when you realize


she wouldn’t know what “full-Cobain” means,

and you haven’t had good drugs since he died.



Nathan Graziano lives in Manchester, New Hampshire, with his wife. He is the author of ten books of poetry and fiction, and his latest book of poetry is titled Born on Good Friday (Roadside Press, 2023). Graziano is also a columnist for Manchester Ink Link. For more information, visit his website: www.nathangraziano.com.