Wednesday, January 10, 2018

OVERNIGHT


the rivers freeze
& the sand deepens.
Once, you were able
to do things
like tie shoelaces
without thinking
& now
you would prefer
not to think,
but have to.
There's nothing
to be done
but adjust
constantly.
I could offer advice
but like myself
you wouldn't take it.
This is the wind
from vacant lots,
the straw in the hair
of heros.
These are words
like tombstones
in the mouths
of mumblers.
Everything
is a beginning
of something.
Everything
is an end
to something
that came before.
There is little to be done
with the dead skin
except remember
how vicious
& vibrant
we once
were.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2018

Monday, January 1, 2018

THE BRAND SPANKING NEW STRATEGY FOR THE CRANKY OLD DOPE GAME


Yes, young man, what can I do for you?
the candy store owner asked the bright-eyed boy.

I'd like, let's see--
(his eyes were salivating)
--a few packs of those M&M's,
10 Bazooka Joe's,
& 2 bags of Dr. Death.

OK son, that's going to be 20 dollars for the M&M's,
10 for the Bazooka Joe's,
& 50 cents for the good Dr.

The boy fished out the bills,
counted them off
& forked them over.

Now remember son,
take the gum
out yer mouth
before you honk-up
the Dr. Death.

I will, Mr. Fishbein, see ya.

See ya, Harry, and say hello
to your parents for me and
that cute little sister of yours.

Mr. Fishbein was a perv,
but he always had the goods.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2018

Saturday, December 30, 2017

A PLAIN SPEAKING, HONEST, NEW YEAR'S EVE PROPOSITION/RESOLUTION TO AN ASTUTE, INTELLECTUALLY GIFTED, HO, WHO SEES RIGHT THROUGH ME


I will bring you all my
candied misery, my doubts,
all

my darkest moments; I'll gift
you with my sheared heart; are you
seduced yet

by all this
selfishness; this dupliciity
of newly minted ice; a Brahm's Requiem of French horns...

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

Friday, December 29, 2017

FUCK WALTER MISCHEL


and his marshmellow test.
Who in their right mind
would wait a year to eat
two marshmellows when
you can eat one now?
And that's supposed to tell me
who will cure cancer
and who will die of cancer?
Gimme the marshmellow
now. I've been
a heat seeking
guided pleasure missle
before I knew what pleasure was:
put a bag of dope,
a scotch neat,
a jelly bean or two or three, or a hundred thousand,
or Milky Way,
a piece of ass, a pair of tits,
three of a kind, or Royal Flush,
even a parting of lips
in front of me,
and I'm a gonner.
How about a warm apple pie
cradling a Hagan-Daz scoop of vanilla--
I'd crawl over my mother
to get next to that.
Wait a year!? Are you outta yer mind!?
I want to get the fuck outta me now,
motherfucker. What is pleasure about?
I want to lose myself; I want to get lost:
Lost in wine, in women, in poetry, in song.
That is how you find things
out. You lose control, you go crazy...
for a second, a week, a month, years.
Unfortunately,
most don't.
What horrible lives
they must lead.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

LIBIDOBESETZUNG WHILE ON A CAROUSEL OF SHIT


Your pussy rides
the middle horse,
the horse
that rears up,
while death sits still
at your side
behind you
& in front.
I cannot
get past them
& think:
I really
don't want to.
For where would I be
if I weren't digging
a grave with you
or without you,
inside you
or pushing
against the steel
of your heart?
I know now
what happens
after a man finds
a cunt that fits--
he waits
like a child
for the brass ring
to come 'round again
while the grave beckons
my name to be written--
like breath
on a mirror.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

Tuesday, December 26, 2017

WHAT A CONUNDRUM!


The Pope
invited me to Rome.
Donny
begged me to come to Mar-a-Lago.
Who,
I asked myself,
should I dis--
The child of God, or
the father of God?
Instead,
I babysat
Jay Z's kids
figuring:
hip hop artists
need a break, too.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

Sunday, December 24, 2017

JESUS IS LOOKING


to being born
& I'm looking
for a whore
on Canal Street
so I won't die
in this godforsaken world
in an unforgiving town
on the outskirts
of mental illness
& "there's a medication
for that."

Heard they moved uptown,
an old alkie said
in front of the mission
on Lafayette. Ain't no action here,
except for old fucks
like us.

Where uptown? I inquired.

How the hell should I know?
Do I look like I'm mobile
with money and care
if I ever get a stiff dick again?

I needed a bowl
of wonton soup;
the wind
was picking up,
the temperature dropping,
and I was lost
in thought and
old remedies.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017