b.z. niditch | locomotion


Condemned to nerves
that crashes within
like puzzled notes
in a fugue,
you wish to be
away from the sound
of migraine panic,
your uncle says
to the child prodigy
you must play Bach
in a baroque recital
through somatic hours
without a breath
or pause
from your solo
except for intermission,
after a quick respite
removing rain gear
you mutely step
into the silent hall
with huge statues
of the three B’s
all around the stage
to rehearse,
my childhood piques
at that moment
in the city cab
hearing on the radio
Coltrane’s “Locomotion”
you forget
the classical recital
and head for the Savoy.

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