Social Flu Shot

I roll in with my number,
a sterile strip of paper—
a tiny dose of patience,
administered in crowded chairs.

The cough of printers echoes,
sniffles in fluorescent light,
and strangers’ sighs ripple
like germs through the air.

A clerk’s pen pricks my paperwork,
a vaccine of bureaucratic dread,
and I leave with immunity
to small talk, waiting, and lines.