8 Trips to the Big Y/Tractor Supply Mini Strip Mall with the Walgreens That Used To Be a Rite-Aid

1. They were out of our normal chicken feed. In some kind of fog, I bought what I thought was a competing brand and instead was poultry scratch. There was even a turkey on the bag, right there on the front.

2. A prescription is ready.

3. The kiddo ate all the peanut butter again, and we’re out of bread, and we’re low on yogurt. The kiwis look good and the kiddo’s been really into trying new fruit.

4. The kiddo is allergic to kiwis, as, apparently, am I, because I guess food is not supposed to make your mouth itch? Big Y is open late and carries children’s Benadryl.

5. Another prescription is ready.

6. There’s a hospital lab in between the Walgreens and the Big Y and the psychiatrist sends the order for bloodwork there to test whether one of the prescriptions is toeing the toxicity line. This medicine works well at keeping me from trying to kill myself until it tries to kill me.

7. The vetericyn spray for chicken wounds fell behind the washer, and one of the chickens has a cut on her foot.

8. A prescription is ready. A prescription for the dog is ready. The kiddo’s fluoride tablets are ready. We are out of chicken feed. A wild turkey darts across the road. I should pick up something for them. I’m already on my way.

Jerica Taylor is a non-binary neurodivergent queer cook, birder, and chicken herder. Their work has appeared in Postscript, Schuylkill Valley Journal, and Feral Poetry, and they have a prose chapbook forthcoming from GASHER Press. She lives with her wife and young daughter in Western Massachusetts. Twitter @jericatruly