The Unnameable

drifts in and out of my consciousness
as I take an easy walk through town square,
watching as others toss coins in the fountain,
the wish-want on their faces so clear, I put
down my head and look to the sidewalk,
as each dark toe of my shoe comes forward.
How dangerously we all arrive to that strange
party called depression, with liquid smiles on,
ready to mingle, feeling the room with our eyes,
searching for someone like us, checking
the corners, the shape of dialogues, the dark fracture
under the stairs.