Sy Roth is a retired school administrator and has finally found the 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, among others.
Dei Profundis
So I hock a loogie,
gray sticky mass
loosed in disgust
profundity in name only–
instead, fearsome projectile
Ha,ha aimed at ignorance.
Somewhere deep-congealed
like muddy, frozen ice–
it becomes a soul cleansing expectorant,
a signal to extraterrestrial beings
to come out of hiding.
New sidewalk uni-celled amoeba
hurled at the earth–
News at 10.
express disgust–
self-flagellation, attention-getting somewhen.
cat-o-nine tails?
unappetizing.
You haven’t been at all attentive,
have you?
pathetic…
careless creatures
careless about others
looped into a passel of Seinfeld episodes.
Look,
I’ll suck the loogie from the floor,
if forgiven their trespasses.
They trust–
wait,
cheeks pulled in,
teeth visible,
for an answer—
hollow-cheeked faces wrapped in fear
an the ocean’s depth,
a frozen secret
where Jonah’s plays it out
in xylophonic rhythms
dressed in unlived lives.
Their sentries watch–
Wait,
ready for the clarion call.
I wait too.
until dawn breaks, and
no knell tolls
from the earless entity,
weighty eternities…
The loogie rests curbside,
alien vestige.
The graveled voice—
Silent.
in parentheses 
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