VD

They have fucked
their country silly,
and they've used
no protection,
but it's we
who drip
from syphilis,
gonorrhea,
genital herpes
and all manner
of yeast infections.
Pus is in
our drinking water,
puke is in the air.
Penicillan is useless
against this strain
of virus; only words
as guns or cannons
will staunch the flow
of bullshit.
Vladimir & Donald,
cocksmen for our age,
living in our bloodstream
for far too long,
has rendered us blind
and truly
insane.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2018

WHAT WOULD THE OLD ONES SAY?

No, not the graybeards
that gave name to this merrygoround;
and, no, not the Old Masters
who took pain
and oil-slicked it
with words
& brushstrokes
& notes;
and not the ones
who casually rested
along the outlines
of my skin. No.
Not them.
The ones I think about
are those who've entered
when I was most vulnerable,
blood-jet love,
and had hearts
I clawed into
& tugged & ripped
& eaten--human love
at its most animalistic,
sheets etched
with blood & semen.

I believe
I gave
so little
& robbed
so much
god-awful
time worse
than betrayal
or sins
which sit
inside
a novel's spine,
that I wonder
what would they say
seeing me obey
the rigors
of mortality?

Ancient vulnerabilities
exposed. Humbleness
dictated by god's engine.
And although I'm still fighting
all this, I know that is not
a way to go.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2018