b.z. niditch | indelible


Up front
by the jazz drummer
writing my first Beat
lines, not known to
post graffiti
on any city walls
or yet to make an outlaw
indictment of myself
with my ex ray music
as vision of the phonic
the BZ blues writes on
every mirror
holding me captive
on an itinerant locus
of the unfamiliar
with limited spacial
time recorded
on wires
of incidental
swearing out loud
not to be caught
by any establishment press
nor imprisoned by formalism
and aeons of language,
I am an outlaw poet
set free by buried nights
from each momentary
likeness of resilience
that hides out
on barefoot floating notes
from lamp posts
of magnetic recordings
and pinnacles,
of techno open wings.

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