Tuesday, March 3, 2015

BIG-BONED


and beefy,
my belly,
puffs
with pages,
distending
this monstrosity
over my belt.
I've eaten,
like a good boy,
all my words
and am now trying
to shit them out.
It's a push.
It's making
me just a little
sick; the fucker
weighs three hundred
and fifty-five pounds
as of this date
and is still
hungry.
It seems ravenous
for everything
I know
or have
done:
the pleasures,
the pains,
the betrayals
and triumphs.
It's anger
is its humor;
its aggression
is its patience.
It is a gourmand
of confusion.
It is
the iron chef
of the soul.

One cannot force
the breach;
the place
where it forms
is dark
& locked
from sight.
One must give-in
to its petulance
and not encourage
its reticence.

I love it
already.

(And, yes,
you're in there,
too).

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015

4 comments:

  1. Norman, Would you please tell me the name of that living philosopher (Eastern European?) you used to/still like so much? He had some tics and oddities in his speech and/or presentations. Many thanks! Clara Waldhari, St. Augustine, FL

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey Clara,
      Sorry for the tardy response. Just noticed this morning that you'd left a note. The person that you're referring to is: Slovak Zizek.
      Hope this note finds you well. I've been treading water insofar as finances are concerned (left Life Alert this past Christmas and have been looking for a gig since while I collect unemployment), but am nearly finished (within a hundred pages) on a book I've been piecing together for the past seven, eight, years now. I really like it and I think you would, too. The title is: THE DEPARTURE LOUNGE.
      Take care, sweetie,
      Norman

      Delete
    2. Hi Norman,
      Thanks for Zizek's name. Couldn't pull it from the memory bank.
      Been keeping up via your poetry. Very happy to see you've been working on the book, too! You must be eating your Wheaties! Love the title. I think I might know some pieces of it. One mighty push and you done birthed that baby. Mazel tov! Things in FloriDUH go on and on and on. One bright point: At least I don't live in Indiana. We made it to 67! Be well, dear friend. Clara

      Delete
  2. Clara:
    Send me your email address, but don't send it here. I still have the gmail account and once I get yours, I'll send you the best one to reach me on.
    N.

    ReplyDelete