Thursday, July 3, 2014

INDEPENDENCE DAY...OF SORTS


I miss
my toes &
my teeth--
the top ones;
I miss
the boardwalk
in Coney Island,
sea-soaked
& spongy
to the young beat
of canvas sneakers;
I miss
the fireworks
on Tuesday
& the cherry,
pineapple,
chocolate
or lemon ices
in thin paper
dixie-cups
dripping
sticky
onto my tongue
& face
& hands;
I miss
my first
furtive kiss
on the sand
underneath
the dark wood,
& the first feel
of tit
soft
powdered
titillating
& taboo
to young fingers;
I miss my father
letting go
of the bicycle seat
of my new Schwinn
two-wheeler;
I miss his arms
allowing me
to swim & swim
away; I miss
the first time
I punched him
& meant to hurt him;
I miss the first taste
of warm gin
& the first shot
of dope
no matter
how sick
I got; I miss sharkskin
pants & double features
& Nathan franks
for 25 cents
& riots
in the bars
of Brooklyn;
I miss the first sweets
from the breasts
of factories; I miss
the firsts of loves
& hates & spirals
upward
& downward & in
& out &...

but most of all
I miss the absence
of memory.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2014

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