Like a Movie by Jennifer Lagier

An interchangeable cast

of cranky actors costumed as nurses

or white-coated specialists

move in and out

of your hospital room.


They ignore the name

listed above your bed,

printed upon wrist band.

Wordlessly perform a variety

of medical functions.


So far, they’ve pricked

your finger, mistaking you

for the unresponsive diabetic

on the opposite gurney.


Administered respiratory therapy

intended for a guy across the hall.

Tried to dose you with

the incorrect chemo.


Food service bungles

90% of your orders.

Twice they forget

to deliver your dinner.


Over and over

you remind them

you can walk on your own

when they insist

on a walker or wheelchair.


You wonder if the pathology report

of metastasized malignancy

actually belongs to you.

Try to convince yourself

it’s just one more mistake.



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