The Platz Piazza of Dark Dreams by Sy Roth



The afternoon ablutions
To wash away the daymares of reality.

She sat across from me adrift on her own Congo River
I, like Kurtz, a sphinx with eyes of Gilead.

She dark mirror
Eyeless beneath her deep-set eyes.

We both blindly dance the dance of the voiceless
Dunking our Oreos in tall glasses of milk
Sharing an errant tidbit of my life
While she shovels over the tombs of the lost
Throwing fists-ful of dirt into an open grave to expiate her living.

The table dotted with a trail of Oreo detritus
And she’s back in the barnyard pecking away with her index finger
Remembering the hunger as if it resides there like a life-saving unguent
That brings with it the silence.

I only hear the squish of the sodden Oreo in my mouth
And I wipe my mouth with the ever-present napkin.

Her eyes cloud in remembrance of the Platz,
Place of nightmares where mankind bore an evil twin
Let it roam free among the living
Thirsty for room to live
Making empty the other rooms
Populating with replacement people
Who emerge from their pods
To assemble at the piazza of dark dreams
Where she went so often.

Small round mouth, full lips, downturned in sadness
We reside together in the great divide,
I with my anger
She with her nightmares savoring the last bit of Oreo crumb
Off the edge of her index finger.  


©2019 Sy Roth


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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, Every Day Poets, Barefoot Review, Haggard and Halloo, Misfits Miscellany, Mad Swirl, Larks Fiction Magazine, Danse Macabre, Bitchin’ Kitch, Bong is Bard, Humber Pie, Poetry Super Highway, Penwood Review, Masque Publications, Foliate Oak, Miller’s Pond Poetry and The Eloquent Atheist.

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