December 23-29, 2013: B.Z. Niditch and Daniel MacFadyen

Traffic Jam

My nerves in perpetual motion
as this alto sax player
leaves the city
in his car from Boston
to the Big Apple,
a friendless lipsyncher
stands by the bus stop
dressed in black leather
asks for a ride
going to Manhattan also
yet at rush hour
suddenly tiptoes away
in the middle of traffic,
I’m getting heat
from other drivers
as the singer at a red light
slides into a convertible
next to mine,
it starts to snow like kisses
with rubbed out shadows
melting on my window shield,
I’m like an unsung traveler,
trying to remember my riffs
yet know like Oscar Wilde
that no good deed goes unpunished
alone with his topographic map.

On the Train

My train went past
your house today
to another city
Down the way…

And from this distance
the decaying and downed
leafs of your garden
could be a blanket
..of fresh earth.

It has been a while now
since my gaze was
from the other side
of your window;
six months since I laid bare
by your side lightly
listening to trains roll by.

Even so
my heart beats
a sickening pace
like a dead man walking
and the crazy thing is
I picked this seat
so I could see your place
could feel and view
the death warrant pronounced.


Greyhound Bus

Taking us away or to
something bigger
than yesterday.

In this comfortable darkness
is promise and connectness –
like a far off train whistle
transecting the dark of night.

Laz-boy comfort
but movement too.

Strings from forward and behind
begin to loosen
and I doze safely.

And this constant motor hum
is a reminder,
that I am going somewhere,

And tonight bus driver,
You are my controller,
my blue collared God.