Convulsive Electric Blues

Hauntings of a Conscientious Objector:

This morning, I remembered how,

when the surgery rooms were slow,

I’d sometimes assist in the psych ward

and you recognized me that day,

when I walked in to help in the electro-shock therapy room.

Confused, I blurted out, “What are you doing here?”

You said your parents kidnapped you

from your boyfriend’s apartment

hid you away in a mental hospital.

For two years you have refused to accept Jesus or change,

but your parents and doctors promised,

they’d release you if you submitted to these treatments.

You asked me to visit you when this was over.

I wanted to help you flee, but followed orders,

strapped you down, placed your gown back over your chest,

held your legs, as your body tried to rise up off the bed.

Eyes in the back of your head, biting down on the mouth guard

that prevented you from biting off your tongue.

After three jolts, the doctor told me not to visit you,

but I had promised you so I did.

I could not find you in blank eyes and did not return.

Tell me, were you able to cobble together a life,

from the wreckage, give up living in sin

and find their God in what remained?

Were your parents ever happy with the results;

do they still blame you for what they did

and do you forgive me, because I can’t?

5-14-24