B.Z. Niditch: three poems
MOLOCH
He was Moloch, he said,
from Lower Mills somewhere
smelling of flesh, earth and mine
and he was all yours
measuring the chain
of your earth body and soul
with his own
who worked the night
a magnet come to know you
adult, child, child adult
who was in mind only eleven
and still believed
in the good fairy, Christmas
and heaven
not complaining
that you didn't want to eat his flesh
or drink in the dark muddy street
he overtook you
house angel, street devil
on the red asphalt road
you knew nothing of
the platonic love
left out in the pits
you barely see
only his body
body's perfect fit
and tits.
A WAGNERIAN COMES TO TOWN HALL
In your German mood
on the stage of collapse
wearing a helmet
Helmut want Ingrid
to fly away with him
away from the gods
and the Dutchman
Ingrid secretly dreams of
like any Assyrian scorceress
she keeps wanting a tiger
to skin her alive.
IMPRIMATUR
He gave you his signiture
hidden in blood and piss
but it was of no use
he wanted what he wanted
a man of thunder, Mars and S&M
who took you on his cycle
speeding off headlong
to your last stop.
B.Z. Niditch is a poet, playwright, and short story writer. His many credits include Affair of the Mind, Angelflesh, The
Denver Quarterly, Devil Blossoms, The Literary Review, and The Plastic Tower. His collection, Crucifixion Times
was published in 1998.
