Secret
The caterpillar munching on hair
beneath your scrub cap
Rebellion
A hearse with a “Soccer Mom” sticker
On the back window
Ululation
Listening to your heartbeat through a tin can
Heretic
Eating pudding with the cafeteria’s
last plastic knife
Denizen
A “good evening” to the rising sun
Effortless
Sinus bradycardia
Lady
Two tightly tied hospital gowns
and covered feet
Glacier
I hear your IV pole squeak from down the hall
Cinnamon
A Peaceful death
Zenith
A last pack of cigarettes
washed down with Blue Moon
Heirloom
Your scrawling signature on a consent form
Incense
The tools that touched you in an autoclave
then pouring bleach on the bloody linens
Peace
Thinking of your smile
without documenting its droop
Author’s note: This poem is inspired by the work and style of Paul Hoover, an American poet who is currently a professor at San Francisco State University. He is well known for his anthology “Hairpin Turns,” where he would pair words with unexpected metaphors. Each stanza is independent of the others and yet somehow they tell a story when put together.
Poetry Thursdays is an initiative that highlights poems by medical students. If you are interested in contributing or would like to learn more, please contact our editors.
Columnist
Oakland University William Beaumont School of Medicine
Mallory Evans is a third-year medical student at Oakland University William Beaumont School of Medicine in Rochester, Michigan. She graduated from the University of Michigan in 2019 with a Bachelor of Science degree in cellular and molecular biology and a minor in German. When not studying, you can find her running many miles on woodland trails, perfecting a black bean burger recipe, or saying answers to Jeopardy! out loud at the TV. One day she hopes to pursue a career in internal medicine and pediatrics and travel to at least one place on every continent.
This is Water
This is Water is an attempt at documenting intentional living. This column will strive to highlight the extraordinary meaning of the often unnoticed, and to greet the hard and joyful parts of the medical school experience with gratitude (even when, especially when, we don't feel like it).