Sunday, June 26, 2016

YOU THINK IT'S EASY


waiting
on the muse?
Try it
sometime.
Ya sit, sit, sit...
& nothing. Fucking piss.
Not a goddamn thing
to get you hard.
Sit some more
waiting
for you to appear,
to give me
a reason
to go on--
a slim one,
I know,
but baby
these are some mean fucking times;
& ya take
what the dealer
deals. Then
you cheat,
steal, lie,
squeeze those cards
for all they're worth:
sometimes,
not much;
sometimes
a fortune.

I'll take
my chances
with you.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

Thursday, June 23, 2016

HOW TO SHOOT YOURSELF IN THE FUCKIN HEAD


First:
Get a set of parents
who are out of their fucking minds.
Next:
Digest them
whole, absorb
their judgements:
you're shit,
the world is shit,
everything's shit.
Next:
Believe that.
Then:
Go out into the world.

Lock & Load.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

SAM

http://bit.ly/28Trzb6

You were three
and I was nearly sixteen.
You had yet to find
misery, and I had found
too much of it.
You would, shortly, catch-up.

Then, in Bed-Stuy,
I saw Sam
live. My old man
took me. Lucky,
for me, he was
a black Jew
for his time.
Sam defined
my pain; he helped
get to my bones.

I've tried
to get to
yours.

I'm still
trying.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

TENDING MY GARDEN


on my little patch
of Hell:
A memorial
this morning
for Mr. Bamberg
who spent 15 years
in Green Haven
on a 25 to Life bid
lived for 6 months
with us
before pancreatic cancer
did what the streets couldn't:
take him out.
The staff
& his cousin was there.
It seems Mr. Bamberg
was real pleasant
to work with & his nephew
claimed he taught him
everything his dead parents couldn't:
except how to get out of his own zip code.
And then there were our tenants
who came our of their caves
for the free cake & coffee.

Then there are the live ones:

Ronny's on a cocaine binge;
his two hands as big as pillows
from I.V.ing his veins
and missing;
Little Paulie has an abscess
from shooting dope into dead highways;
Bent Over Paulie
who has a hump back
from scoliosis
& great nutrition, split
from his hospital bed
& was last seen hustling
roses down the avenue
of the dead
on 42 do-wop street; Eva
was issued a bench warrant;
& Marty began a gig--
his first one in ten years
since his 7 year bid
in Dannemora
and looked like a kid
when he came back
to tell me.
Some
might find that depressing.
Too bad
for them. They've never
missed a meal
or slept on a grate;
they never walked
down a street
that wasn't lit
for them.
But I've got
an easy two days
off that I'm going
to enjoy. Praise
the Lord.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

Monday, June 20, 2016

I WANT A LITTLE SUGAR

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbKlvWvpD2g

Don't you?
A little rush?
Make you woozy,
it will,
make you
thrash your head,
side to side,
your body shimmy
like fresh made jello,
feel the wetness slide
within and outside you.
C'mon darlin,
ya can leave
your insulin
home; I got plenty
and besides:
finally we'll be
someplace where
we're not.
Slide it
over.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

URBAN LOVE


I'll take
your silence
as a "yes,
go on (please)
go on."
Watch
while I take
everything
from you;
it's a stick-up
without a gun.

Don't move.
Put your hands
down & your arms
around me.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

Saturday, June 18, 2016

BETTY, MY DEAR


You must tell me
if you really want me
to stop;
if it hurts
too much;
if you want
a tourniquet applied
where a torrent of words flow;
if you want to save
our minds
or our hearts?

The beasts
are in the
forests where
the prisoners
are hunted.
I would give them quarter
if I had change
of a dollar.

Instead,
I offer you safety
nestled
in a madman's glance.
You know,
of course,
I'm lying.

Come closer.
Yes, whisper.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016