Biography

Daryl Sznyter is the author of Synonyms for (OTHER) Bodies (New York Quarterly Books). Her poetry has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Forward Prize, and has been published in Harpur Palate, Poet Lore, Folio, Gravel, The American Journal of Poetry, WomenArts Quarterly, Best American Poetry Blog, and elsewhere. She received her MFA from The New School. She currently resides in Northeastern Pennsylvania, where she works as an SEO Analyst. In her spare time, she likes to dance, watch horror movies, and blog about social issues and feminism. Visit darylsznyter.com to read a sample of her work.

Samples

synonyms for (other) bodies i am fat & i am invisible i go out to eat in groups & the waitress always seems to forget my food it takes me two rounds to get a beer & after four we go because everybody is looking at me because nobody is looking at me because i already paid i hit up the gym in all black a big black marble i am invisible big muscled men lift weights next to me & i am in their space their space i move back with every lunge & i am in their space & i move back with every bicep curl & i am in their space they hug my space with their piney sweat until i have nowhere else to go but out on my way out somebody says girls of my stature will never outrun their problems i run fast until i'm origami & bones i fold in i fold in i can use my wrists as scissors i cut my hair to expose the elegance of my cheeks i leave my hair on the floors of coffee shops & they still forget my coffee & i still pay so now i only drink water & scrape the glass with my thinning teeth & still i am invisible i accentuate those striations under my ribcage i carve out the meat & feed my loved ones & still i am invisible i raise my hand to ask a question & i am invisible i interrupt & i am rude one day i spoke into silence until my tongue lit on fire when i paused for water somebody else stood up to pawn off my story & the audience went wild the raped girl is showering & never getting clean showering with her clothes on leaving wet clothes on the floor & relishing the smell of mold as it suits her her mom calling her love life the wounded animal project coming down on them like religion fucking like a pneumatic drill flatlining when they ask if she’s close she is the consequence of using the sad girl for drunk sex on a bad first date keeping razors in her pocket to remind herself she could addiction to things she will never do memorizing her light switches in case she has a nightmare & her cat doesn’t stir because he’s sick of her shit constantly questioning the meaning of big bodies in little spaces & little bodies in big spaces preferring blowjobs to sex & never letting a man go down on her taking too many vitamins & supplements because she loves the word supplement because it means she might be able to change who she is spooning mood stabilizers from a stranger’s hip bones too many doctors too many pills constipation unable to hold down a job tired tired tired & drinking too much water & losing weight faster than she can run finally dating someone her mom approves of & nicknaming him prime number & she still can’t cum but he makes her want to try explaining to friends that the mess in her car is a metaphor for her life scratching the furniture feeling magical if she goes one day without crying forgetting to lock doors behind her referring to herself with a lowercase i thinking every word should be abbreviated but not knowing how right-clicking on her name with no thesaurus suggestions patiently waiting for someone to tell her everyone wants to kill themselves sometimes if only to reply but i’ve been wanting for ten years (both published in The American Journal of Poetry)

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.