Wednesday, May 6, 2009


I was smoking
a cigarette waiting
for a steady thing:
a job, a woman, immortality.
I settled on
finishing the cigarette
and clocking the hot
pre-summer New York
action. a young
grandmother walked by
wearing a yellow t-shirt
with the word “foxy”
written in red above
her left flabby tit.
she wasn’t wearing a bra
or much of anything. it was
hot. she stopped and carefully
lifted a Pall Mall
from her case and slowly
lit it as she looked
at me. she looked good
and knew it. I figured
she was a scotch drinker
and probably very smooth
at whatever she wanted
to do. I began to laugh
at my thoughts
‘til I remembered
30 years ago
when she would walk
into a room,
any room,
and everyone
took her

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 1978

1 comment:

  1. That's a good one. And how do you see it now, 30 years on for you?