WE USE WHAT WE GOT (every little bitty thing) THAT GOD GAVE US

like guns
& pocket mirrors;
like a hairy fist,
or a fast thumb;
like tits
on a '55 Cadillac's bumper
put in a push-up bra,
or a chiseled jaw
bracing a British accent;
we use our parent's wealth,
or food stamped passivity.
We use our reputation,
the written word,
stuttering,
or long legs leading to mysterious fortunes.
We play humor, twist pathos, dance with angels
or devils or landlords or tax collectors--
all that dross,
--secrets & solitudes
and the desperation
of others;
vanity/poverty
& holidays of blue suicides,
big dicks & tight cunts
snapping shut or dribbling
out the clock;
sophisticated offhandedness,
construction sweat,
a beaten fighter's courage,
a hooker's scars,
a priest's purity--
what we got,
is what we use.
I do it.
You do it.
We all do it
in the service
of love,
like the worm,
like the snake,
like the slug.
Everywhere.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

EVERYDAY YOU PASS BY

everything you need
to know

about everything
there is.

II

Residues.
Kick ball
then doorways.
A darkness
is at the top
of the stairs,
but money too.
Need
is your gravity
today.

III

Dreams
in a book
bag.

IV

I gave you
a hundred,
I know
I gave you
a hundred,
I only had
a hundred
and now,
I don't
have it
anymore.

V

I fell
in love
when I
was little
and now love
sucks the life
out of me
as I grow
impatient.

VI

One should look
harder
at what
one knows.

VII

Her dress
has its first stain
of journeys
to come.
His lips
hang
over his teeth
like shadows.

VIII

Slugs sun
in the summer
slime;
they have
no job
yet.

IX

Vespers
from a Harmon
mute; a jazz
musician
fingers
the hem
of a garment
whose mother
doesn't know
where she is:
this circle,
this time,
now.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017