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HOWL FOR ROSEMARY KENNEDY

By Farrell McNulty

Poetry

Blurb

This is the imagining of a diary of an employee at the university hospital who just happens to be in the vicinity when Rosemary Kennedy was wheeled into the operating room for her life-scarring lobotomy. This employee was a young man who worked as an orderly at the hospital and knew who she was. He sneaked around and witnessed her ordeal in front of his horrified eyes and felt great sadness and shame as he could do nothing to set her free, and lamented the life she could have had if she had just been allowed to flourish as her own woman. .

I saw....



I saw one of the best minds of a previous generation destroyed by madness, crying, hysterical, watching her hair fall off her scalp in front of her eyes, strapped in, dragged down a cold, sterile ammonia-scented corridor, her nerves jumping with every echoing clop of the soles of black wooden shoes, echoes of ominous calls for doctors over a static-ridden P.A., memories of family portraits, boys, dances, presentations to Her Majesty which she would never again remember, the sound of her own voice which would never again be heard coherently, now just relax, this isn’t going to hurt you, this is going to help you - the horrible hornet hum of pieces of her skull cast askew by Black and Decker, like a jackhammer on a broken street, sppon and spatula-style utensils plunged blindly inside her head while she counted backwards from 100 and back - sang God Bless America while her God was nowhere to be found, entertained these mercenary minions with anecdotes she’ll never relive as pieces of her soul were flung about the room smeared on surgical scrubs soon to be scooped up in a haz-mat bag, staring blankly, serving a sentence of silence for her thuggish threats to thwart a meaningless masturbatorial pretense of power – perfection – prestige – crucifixion with no resurrection – eradication of existence – questions quelled of a thoroughbred

Who never jumped or asked how high

Who dared seek the company of others not previously assigned under the hostile suppressive gaze of one

Who rationalized it was all for the best

Who retroactively regaled the press with stories of the great shame they called their eldest daughter

Who threw temper tantrums like her sisters threw parties,

Who sneaked out of her cell at a convent school for Wild Irish Sex

Who balked at having a governess at the age of 22

Who walked around with soiled sanitary napkins in her purse

Who her family says was born retarded when her head was jammed in place to keep her from exiting her mother’s birth canal.

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