steerage

because of your lame
health insurance
that covers nothing except
amputations
and heart
transplants,
you stop by the minute
clinic
for some prescription
medicines.
something for
the fever, the headache.
the onset of
flu.
you sit in a small plastic
chair,
in a small enclave.
a water fountain
hums next to you.
you listen to the coughing,
to the rattle of bones
shaking. you pray.
finally,
a nurse comes out
and points at who's next,
saying a name
as best she can.
all eyes are on her.
this Florence nightingale
in a mustard stained white dress.
it's the steerage section
of the health care world.