Aurora Lewis
from A Fairmount Narrative
But Group is about to begin. There are
thirty of us, all women, some full grown,
though Millie is only 16. Snow pale,
green veins running deep beneath translucent
skin. You’d call her beautiful
and the nurse who raped her would agree.
She’s open about it, though, not resigned
and weepy or wilting silently; her
favorite word is bastard, as in That no
good dirty bastard thought that he could
own me. Fuck that. They say she’ll be out of
here soon, and one day maybe even free.
We sit in a circle of chairs, unless
you’re Em or Bertha. Then you’re slumping sloppy;
Em coasts by on a Methadone high, and
the Seroquel hits Bertha like a freight.
Doc must have set her straight; she’s fairly
docile and drooling on the floor. Upped her
meds—when she wakes she’ll call it mind-rape,
while Em will ask for more. Em got into
sex work and heroine, but ended up
homeless. She had to choose between a room
or her daily fix, and the drugs liked her best.
Bertha is schizophrenic, once jailed for
attacking a weed-dealing boyfriend
prone to violence. Claimed it was self-defense–
judge disagreed. When lucid, she inveighs
against the prison guards who Raped her up
the ass! Edits are supplied by a nurse,
with the timid suggestion of: Cavity-searched.
Editor’s Note: “from A Fairmount Narrative” is a section of a larger work in progress. Other sections may appear in future What Rough Beast posts.
Aurora Lewis is a recent graduate of Haverford College. This is her first poetry publication.
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