Janice Lobo Sapigao (she/her) is a poet from San José, CA. She is the author of two books of poetry, microchips for millions (Philippine American Writers and Artists, Inc., 2016) and like a solid to a shadow (Nightboat Books, 2017). She was the 2020-2021 Santa Clara County Poet Laureate.
my mom makes friends with the nurses / and together they make a country / she brings them food / and together they are a farm / a restaurant without pricing / a secret menu / i eat with her / at a station labeled ‘17’ or ‘Room A’ depending on the availability / and we are alone / in a sterile hotel without walls but curtains / a luxury without the privilege / each guest is a room open and observable / the nurses / they eat her food in a break room / without us / my mom and her new friends / eat lunch in separation / they are two countries apart / a people, divided / a nation under no god / no mercy / i believe in my mother / the maker of the bombest / adobo and rice / of spaghetti and hot dogs / of vienna sausages / the nurses pledge allegiance / to their patients / their indivisible labor / when we call for someone to come help us / anyone / a nurse comes quickly / comes running / when a machine beeps out of rhythm in our church / nurses, they are the conductors / with answers / priests to a high symphony / signing / singing / all the liquids with long names / they call for the gowns / washed and warm / with liberty and phone calls / with medicine everlasting / the diaspora almighty / and on the last day of chemo / the nurses takes pictures / & selfies with my mother, / creator of pinakbet and lumpiang shanghai / the nurses are profiled, memorialized, and merry / let her be healed / and if we never come back here / to infusion or oncology / let it be wholly / in the nurses’ names / amen