Electro-Convulsive Therapy

She grits her teeth. Her ears are ringing.
Then suddenly, a sneeze—Achoo!
With blue-haired choristers there singing
Her head is foggy, much ado
To that great zap her brain has taken.
Some memory will be forsaken
In hopes her mood will lighten up
And poems she'll write, and bathe, and sup
More normally, as normal being
Quite normally is wont to do
Emotionally more pink than blue.
Poor Sylvia the treatment's freeing
To marry Ted, escape from gloom,
Embrace a later, fatal doom.



Survivor Poetry Contest
Trigger 44, Poet's Choice (Onegin stanza)