Howl by Sy Roth

 

Ginsburg, you fool,
I say Kaddish for you.
I ride my camel in a desert full of camels,
A restless marauder sitting atop a one-humped camel
Led languidly by an infidel on a fusty road
And you, bearded Gimpel, howl back at me.

How lugubrious of you to dare the beasts
To drown us in the tsunami of their brazenness
On the endless march through the interminable desert.

Wailing, how light we are,
Motes in the eyes of gods who recline languidly
Masters at their Seder table
While an undulating world waxes and wanes,
Creeps along on the twin-forked trail
Traveled by caravans of lethargic beasts
Their snaggle-toothed visages snarling and spitting
Anxious for a chunk of you.

The howl sets in motion
A maze of dominoes crackling In ho-hum stutters
Awaiting the drop of the last three-eyed dot
A plinking in the middle of a mash of wailing howlers,
Matchless, with no connective tissue
Sad remnant of a beast created by angry Gods
Left rudderless in their howling world.

So, Ginsburg,
When the last letters of the Kaddish are intoned
Do we breathe a sigh of relief?
Or do we gnash our teeth,
Bay at the moon, unrepentant,
A lonely howler at it crescent
Restless in disbelief
While the dromedary’s hump impales us?

©2020 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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