THE ART OF FALLING IN LOVE

A circus catch
in Hell;
Marlon Brando crossing
the river Styx;
Bogart riddled
not with bullets
but cancer
a non-filtered
hanging
from a lip looking
for a short skirt
at a boxing match.
Today we walk
to a dance
not knowing
who's playing.

We had the luck
of Beckett
lying
in a dung-heap
of prayer.
But
we are well-equipped
for this ride:
you have a few stories
and I have Bach's cello
in my pocket.

Tonight
I'm making a stew
from Proust's neck bone;
and if you'd be so kind
to put his gizzards
in that blender
we can dine
in style.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

YOU KNOW

Dominican girls
are the best
kissers? she said,
like everyone,
including me,
was supposed to know that.
Yeah, I said,
I know it--
I fell
into this girl's lips
one time in Miami,
and still remember it;
can still
taste it, like
a warm pool
of honey.
Well,
I'm better,
she stated
simply,
assuredly; I'm older,
I've got...ways.

She let the word
dangle--
like the rest of me
was doing...

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016