A Poem by Sy Roth

Forsaken Man

I am a camera, panning and zooming in on me,
squat figure eaten by the heat of a midday sun,
knees forming an armadillo hollow
from which I ease into the world,
hunched-over mass of twitching muscles rippling lazily
at flies finding resting places to gnaw and regurgitate.
eyes glued to my hiking boots casting shadows on
wilted spaghetti laces cocooned in a neon glow.
arms wrap ever more tightly about my knees
flesh and bone held tenuously together --
a forsaken melting man
the best I could do that morning with trembling hands.


Sy Roth is retired after forty-two years as teacher/school administrator, he now resides in Mount Sinai , far from Moses and the tablets. This has led him to find words for solace. He spends his time writing and playing his guitar. He has published in Visceral Uterus, Amulet, BlogNostics, Every Day Poets, Barefoot Review, Haggard and Halloo, Misfits Miscellany, 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, The Artistic Muse, Word Riot, Samizdat Literary Journal, Right Hand Pointing, The Screech Owl, Epiphany, Red Poppy Review, Big River, Poehemians, Nostrovia Poetry’s Milk and Honey, Siren, Palimpsest, Dead Snakes, Euphemism, Humanimalz Literary Journal, Ascent Aspirations, Fowl Feathered Review, Vayavya and Kerouac’s Dog.