Jolt

You got left on a metal table
under a white sheet
strung out on red and blue bottles
while they tried to jump start your heart.
I saw the sparks flick off your skin
like the bright scorch of summer
where prayers smell like burnt paper
and the heat keeps you running.
I saw them tape those white nodes to your head
the bald skin glistening innocent
and pull the switch
in a room behind a curtain
the hot bitch of white jolt fever
blistering your thoughts
singeing the palms of your hands
filling the room I sit in
with the impossible stench of hope.