Side unseen by Donna J. Snyder

The back of the hand across the face. Left to right. Right to left. And encore. A nightmare night. A few fractured teeth. Bamboo backscratcher to the weeping eye. One ruptured vein. The shock of pain twirled and let open. A spirit once sweet now consumed by rage. Brain subsumed in biochemical wave. The leg behind the knee. Finger grip about the neck. The relentless fist of implacable stone. The screams and moans. The so alone. The futile attempt to resist. The futile attempt to retreat. The futile attempt to entreat. The power to reason lost. Domination necessary at any cost. Head beaten against the floor. The crawl for the door. The swollen mouth. The rasping breath. Blood red eye rimmed in plum. The aching throat ringed in scarlet bands. Lumps thick as the palm of a hand. The snarls subside and the damage seen. The monster slowly becomes a man. The trenches of war at home are fled. Into the yard. The car. The road. Gasps for air. Despairing sobs. Back to the trenches of day and job.

by Donna J. Snyder

Chimbarazu Press published Snyder’s poetry collection, Poemas ante el Catafalco:  Grief and Renewal and Virgogray Press reissued her 2010 chapbook, I Am South, in the fall of 2014.  NeoPoiesis Press will release a book of poems, Three Sides of the Same Moon, in 2015.  Her work appears frequently in Red Fez and VEXT Magazine.  She blogs at poetry from the frontera.