b.z. niditch | improvisation no. 10

Eugène Boudin | Painting – le Port de Cherbourg


Rounding these words
while on a tenor sax
in gestures of Coltrane
by riffs of solitude
we discovering a wall
from childhood’s
city graffiti scratches
with a winsome breeze
on my kid gloves
to protect my hands
with the half speech
of this improvisation #10
unfolding what answers
to my mouth to mouth
over ripe reed
and renews my lips
of the cold cream
on my favorite model
Jeanne with an umbrella
as in a painting
I met in the port
of Cherbourg
now in her absence
those thousand voices
in my naive land notes
of a palette’s drawing
in an indifferent time
by the endless sea
playing sax for her
forfeiting an exiled card
with my art exhuming
all alphabet appearances.

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