b.z. niditch | stage 1 & 2


Unseen under the moon
like the departed city
before a war,
an animated jazz player
with his eardrums
pitched to high notes
on the misty avenue
buys a single carnation
in the florist shop
by a staring mannequin
in a Parisian hat
near a guy with dice
intent on the game
his hands stretched out
on the quiet floral walls
oblivious of my improvisation
before any presence
of nocturnal spectators
to appear on the scene
by the lighted club scene
to drink in the dusk
before any ready saliva
of the jazz maker
curls his ready lips
commingles with
the newly born carnation
now on his cool blue lapel
bristles with excitement
to capture the keys
from his soprano sax
as a trio joins him
on granite pavements
their tongues loosed
unclenched to explode
in a spiral of melodies
his flower given away
to a street walker
who eyes the hat
of the statue in the shop
waiting for the bus
as a raging cyclist
thrown out of his house
picks her up
promising her the hat
by morning.


In Bird’s shadow
at the depth of playfulness
on a slow working night
keeping a cool eye
on his twining fingers
adrift in ebony muscles
at the Savoy
in a young polyglot’s diary
after walking by a gallery
of Max Ernst’s showing
and needing
to kill a few hours
goes to experience
“Breathless” a tenth time
in the art exhibit
and next to the salon
meeting an itinerant writer
with a diary in Esperanto
in the Beat underground
then a weary adolescent
with a scar from fisticuffs
that early night
smoking anything,
needing gloves and a meal,
whom only darkness befriends.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.