Back Alley

Back alley…
A misnomer, too benign
For such a deed

Taken to a hovel
One of many, On the outlying bordertown
Seemingly abandoned
Away from prying eyes

Outside, broken stucco straddles
Cracked, parched earth
Rancid rusty cans, yesterday's news 
Splintered bottles 

Entering the doorway
Room lit by one bare bulb
Questions of sanitary conditions 
Answered simply by lifting eyes or nose

Seated in stealthy silence 
On stained thread bare couches
Fetid women, white knuckled, dark eyes irisless
There for the cure, different reasons

Tranquilized an hour before 
Corners of my vision fracture
A surreal sense to surroundings 
Resign to my plight

Mother by my side,
She, chats about redecorating our living room
Dispelling the image in her mind
My fear rises

Menacing strangers, 
Lead me down the dark hallway
A lighted room holds a table 
Cover ripped, equipped with restraints

Pungent odor of ammonia
Burns my tearing eyes
As my legs are placed into stirrups
Lights glare above

Thoughts, murderous
Matched with longing
Serves daddy up
Sacrificial in my stead 

Gas hastily given—
Loud squealing, crashing sounds
Brightly colored lights flash
Assault my senses

Awake into a nightmare
The sound of terror screaming,
Sharp white-hot pain and
My stomach surrendering 

My body contracts to hold on
Sounds of a ruinous remedy
Running into a far away bucket
Outraged my tortured mind screams again

I come to— Two tampons crammed up
My young ravaged body
Overloaded mind splits
Beyond belief or caring

Father's sin scraped away 
         Clean
Murderers paid in full
I am encouraged to leave
     Post haste 

Copyright Cynthia L. Bryant 1998

Author's Note: I have recently self-published a book of poems titled Dark Mother-Living on the Borderline . I am selling it for $9.00 that includes the cost of shipping. Please allow 3 weeks for shipping.Email this author. .