b.z. niditch | case for the blues

Photo by William Claxton


Under the street lamps
with a pawned reed
under nightfall’s shade
of tempting indifference
hitching a ride
with a broken thumb
my vertigo gathering
in the circling cab
a driver who shivers
out the windowpane
yet offers a flat rate
if I can fix his flat,
bending down
in a wrenching lap
my back hesitating
in the snow drift
but realizing my gig
is tempting me,
even at an abysmal hour
a calloused thumb
going down
on my khakis
my shadow
is liquid silent
now as I rehearse
my riffs are like flakes
on the ivory windowpane
with sax notes stirring
inside the city taxi
and offering the driver
a free pass to Birdland.

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