Johanna Shapiro, PhD
2016
In the waiting room
people pretend to look at their smart phones
shush their kids
ruffle ancient magazines
glare at the receptionist
when they think she can’t see them
Really they are waiting –
to find out what’s wrong
to find out what will fix them
Really they are waiting
for hope
or the pretense of hope
As for the doctors,
behind the closed doors of their offices
they bang silently on their computers
They too are waiting –
for the day to end
so that they can stop
producing diagnoses
writing prescriptions
arguing insurance
listening to too many stories
offering hope
or the pretense of hope
So that they can finally go home
where they pretend to check their phones,
shush their kids
answer their emails
gaze at their spouses
with love or its facade
Really they are waiting to fall asleep
hoping they will not dream about hope
of any kind