with intersecting signals
in a once red light district
like dances of the 80's
no longer exist,
my once new motorcycle
now abruptly cuts out
with every nightfall excuse
of always being late,
now I'm moving sidewise
blinded from new construction
in a rush of city traffic
prepared against me,
I'm outside a Brooklyn club
that has legendary jazz
with a run for my life
along tinted bar
and gig soundings,
suddenly flakes of snow
appear on my pea jacket
knowing the raw reality
of another dead cold storm
will not change my fate
in tempests of traffic
on weary alleyways
I'm still pledged
to a chip on my dark shoulder
yet recapture back my energy
from bygone strangers
even those who poison
the atmosphere
in boiling altercations,affairs
accidents,rumors,encounters
on this familiar road
which separates me
from my own blame games.
[+]
B.Z. NIDITCH is a poet, playwright, fiction writer
and teacher. His work is widely published in journals
and magazines throughout the world, including: Columbia:
A Magazine of Poetry and Art; The Literary Review;
Denver Quarterly; Hawaii Review; Le Guepard
(France); Kadmos (France); Prism International; Jejune
(Czech Republic); Leopold Bloom (Budapest);
Antioch Review; and Prairie Schooner,
among others. He lives in Brookline, Massachusetts.
