(a medical term for trying to correct the
heart’s rhythm with the use of electric shocks)

Sunk in Faraday’s Dark Space I try to float
upwards, struggle through layers of ether, drift
to blazing light. The air zings with shock,
I am charged, jolted, I have mislaid my beat, its loss
has grounded me, a wild horse, I buck and snort,
leaping as they apply the branding iron that sears
my skin with an unexpected rhythm. They count
the volts, they scorch me and try again with pads
that arc blue electricity from front to back
as it travels the long way through my heart
it stops                 and                     starts
whipping up a corona of light an aurora borealis
that does not augur well. A runaway horse
I bolt, kick the traces and take flight,
                            I cannot
                                            get in synch.

Back in the ward the Doctor appears like Elector,
arcs of light beam out from behind his head.
I shy away. The Doctor, he says, that between
the two sharp angles of each shoulder blade
is a perfect half circle, a horseshoe shape
of raised red skin. Now as it heals
it itches in a place
                                                I cannot reach.