A Clinical Outing
The hospital room is / fair, square, sterile — / by its vapid / medical posters / and lusterless hospital tools.
Tag: Poetry Thursdays
Poetry Thursdays is our initiative to highlight poetry and prose by medical students, with a new post every Thursday. If you are interested in contributing or would like to learn more, please contact our editors.
Editor-in-Chief and Former Writers-in-Training Intern
Geisinger College of Health Sciences
Eshiemomoh Osilama is a medical student at Geisinger College of Health Sciences in Scranton, PA, Class of 2024. He graduated from Columbia University in 2016 with a Bachelor of Arts in biology. He enjoys reading and writing poetry, baking, theater, singing, museums, traveling, beaches and oceans, photography, and being an extraordinary guncle. Momoh is pursuing a career in psychiatry.
Relief
Tears for the dead, tears for the living / who persist in this world that is so unforgiving
Forgive Me
In my white coat, / I ask for forgiveness. / Forgive me, / to the weary homeless man
The First Physical
General: / Patient is in NAD, / except for being awoken at 7 a.m. by someone he has never met
As a Phoenix
Dead eschars are excised. / Skin grafts grow like flowers / Repotted for new life.
Grandpapa’s Gift
Grandpapa had a gift for storytelling. / Sitting on the two-legged stools at the end of the Hutong,
Gynecologic Oncology Surgeons: Normal-Sized Giants
Bleary-eyed, / Surgical cap awry, / I follow in a single file line.
His Last, First Breath
As I unzip the synthetic shroud, / he breathes his last, first breath: / one final exhalation from the plastic pleura / before we make acquaintance.
Intubate
Medical student, why don’t you intubate? / The OR is safe, it’ll go great.
Shortcomings of a Sanctuary
In the hospital lobby, three police officers / surrounded a woman in an oversized, white T-shirt, / sitting in a corner chair that nearly swallowed her whole, / enveloping her in its dull, floral pattern.
Death Is No Crime
Why — why did you die? / Your soul took to the sky / without a conscious goodbye
My Reflection (and Infinitely Beyond)
The quaternary code, the winding staircase / of you, incommensurate in its beauty.
Contributing Writer
Emory University School of Medicine
John is a third-year medical student at Emory University School of Medicine in Atlanta, GA class of 2022. In 2017, he graduated from the University of Georgia with a Bachelor of Science in microbiology. He enjoys playing soccer, going on runs around town, and reading/writing poems in his free time. After graduating medical school, John would like to pursue a career in either neuropathology or emergency medicine.
