Saturday, October 29, 2016


by women past
& present
many years older
or younger who
I love
when not too much
in love
with myself.
In each affair
I've given
I couldn't
hold back.
Women who've been
to finishing schools
& rouged their nipples
& dressed before bed
in French silk taffeta,
and those who've spent
endless nights on open grates
on east village sidewalks
and brought weapons
wrapped with sex
& mindfulness
into our cradle.
They have ways
about them;
ways of doing
& of being done;
they bleed
style. They have monstrous
needs; they drink their own milk.
They drip neurosis
freely to mouths greedy
& grateful.

One day the words
will have moved on
to greener pastures--
then it will be over
for me
but not yet.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

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