b.z. niditch | into the stillness


Into the stillness
of jazz consciousness
the familiar
is never accepted
like a death’s goodbye
before a performance
fingering your music
on augmented papers
smashed by nightfall
or taking a toke
with vague insights
as your eyes narrative
touch on the blues
in speechless help
abstracted from time
on countless hours
like wishing
for a love-note caress
or a chance
at a watery lip,
which hides obsessions,
escapes sidewalk reality
interrogates like a cop
home harbors a sailor
or surprises a Beat poet
in his hip hypnosis
on his pads of language
confounding his abyss
into the stillness
of new arrangements.

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