Back Alley by Cynthia Bryant

Taken
To a hovel on the outskirts of Juarez
Discarded bits of refuge blow lifeless
Across dead earth

Given
Tranquilizers an hour before arrival
I enter the paint less door
To warning drums in my throat

Women who have forgotten how to breathe
Sit in musty couches that line dreary walls
Face forward, remember yesterday

Mother
Determined to have her way
Chit-chats about repainting the dining room
When we return

A squat woman takes my hand
Leads me down the darkened hallway
To a lighted room–
Given gas almost immediately
I twilight sleep into night terrors
Loud squeals, sounds crash
Brightly colored lights flash
Assault senses

The womb contracts
A ruinous running remedy
Pours into a far away bucket

I hear my screams
Then awaken– two tampons
Stuff the sacrificial gash
Groggy mind splintered beyond belief
Or caring

Father’s sin scraped away
Murderers paid in full
I am encouraged to leave
Post haste
Forget the body
Buried out back

Cynthia Bryant's poetry bites hard then takes you into the dark recesses of her life. Finding poetry and maintaining a good sense of humor helps her rise and tread water withe best of them. Cynthia maintains a website known as Poet's Lane, you may find her on Facebook as well as PoetsLane.net

Cynthia Bryant’s poetry bites hard then takes you into the dark recesses of her life. Finding poetry and maintaining a good sense of humor helps her rise and tread water withe best of them.
Cynthia maintains a website known as Poet’s Lane, you may find her on Facebook as well as PoetsLane.net

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