The kitchen table our Grand Canyon
smugness sat on my side
the other angry at his transformation
echololic pish-posh tumbling from droopy lips.
Mimicking him to hide my discomfort,
his response not reciprocal
left eye, a wishless Fountain at Trevi, silenced me
lips a rippling tsunami shaping sounds.
“A cigar. I want a cigar!”
Almost lost in the sogginess of his lips.
“Smoke, no good!”
my tawpie callowness responds.
The Barcolounger carpet-knife sliced,
dismantled leaf blower, in tatters,
silent car adorned with cherubic mouths–
His smoke signals missed in my conceit.
Sy Roth is a retired school administrator. He has finally discovered his sounds of silence and the time to think whole thoughts. This has led him to find words and the ability to shape them. He has published in Visceral Uterus, Amulet, BlogNostics, Every Day Poets, Barefoot Review, Haggard and Halloo, Misfits Miscellany, Mad Swirl, Larks Fiction Magazine, Danse Macabre, Bitchin’ Kitch, Bong is Bard and The Eloquent Atheist. He won a poetry contest sponsored by Newsday.