B.Z. Niditch

On the world stage
since childhood
when you did impressions
and played mime,
a Chaplinesque scene
followed you everywhere;
on the school yard,
running head-long
in relay races,
over field and water,
bouncing off
basketball courts
and sports arenas,
cheering up others
at the movies,
supermarket aisles,
car lots
and sick rooms,
playing on beaches,
in fun houses,
expressing yourself
in fun house mirrors,
clowning in half-speech,
making up lines
with the touch
of a false mustache
patch or eyelash,
at airports,
playing a spy
in a redhead band
with a foreign accent,
satire and sarcasm,
fooling everyone
to save your soul
from put-downs,
waging comic war
with yourself
in talent shows
and competitions,
all in Oedipal fashion,
being called Shakespeare
or Jack Benny
by strangers,
street-wise on cue
since you were eight,
shrouded from whispers
and secret gossip
in perpetual motion
augmented echoes
of our time.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.

Posted on November 23, 2012, in B.Z. Niditch, POETRY and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. A fine piece of work from regular MM contributor and supporter. He paints a vivid picture, and a fun one, too. It’s all beginning to make sense, B.Z.

    Read his other poetry by clicking the link:

    And if you head to his prose page, you’ll find some good stuff, including his mad sci-fi serial THE ZOOSPHERE:

  2. Sometimes it’s hard for people to be themselves, admit who they really are, and this is an interesting reflection on that feeling, where the poem itself hides its core in a surface of very evokative words, full of vivid scenes.

  3. it is as if b.z. niditch ate a dictionary for thanksgiving
    and then vomited it
    there may be words on the surface but i spy atleast one hairball at the core

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