BZ NIDITCH

Sometimes my eyes imagine
living in digital time or space
spinning my own original sin
in face of religion,skin or race

But this was a wake up to me
to refuse my own corrupting
only our God, Muse or fate
chooses our state of being,

Deciding to act in my own plays
like Marlowe or Shakespeare
hide my inimical youthful fears
to shout down critical solo years,

By designing my costumes
from an Attic truth of histories
to groom my own lyrical tragedy
divining a Hamletic soliloquy,

Wishing for a body of thinking
to search like a Kierkegaard
freely taking a modern shot at
Auden' s church of avant garde,

But like Lot we cannot go back
to so much long suffering
being a savant, servant, sot
or as a wronged Dutch king,

or David in a breath of a stone
as a kid will awake and sing
when Goliath aches and falls
from a favored shot and sling,

What poetic energy and anxiety
in Juan de la Cruz's attitude
muses on his dark night behavior
wishes a Savior's beatitude.