SHE HAS KEPT HER DISTANCE

w/her body,
but her mind
cannot help her
from knocking
on my door.

Such a waste

of good flesh

& the time
it takes
to devour it.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

YOU SHOULDN'T DO THAT

For A...


to me
on Skype--
or in person
for that matter
--without telling me
to have the paddles
at the ready.
You know
I'm old
& easily
aroused.

Same time
tomorrow?

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

WHAT A SHAME

you love me
only from a distance.
Popping up
every so often
to feed
your being
by seeing
if I've fed
mine:
Either I love you
or no one; you exist
or forgotten; the poetry
itself matters
little.
But no matter.
I love
your love,
however warped
& twisted
it springs
from a tortuous sense
of self.
I do
however
abhor
the distance.
"Call me Ishmael,"
if you like.
My soul,
like his,
is damp
& drizzly
in my months
of constant November.
My exploration
of good
& evil
stops
with you.

You've digested
enough love
in your life.
The thought
of another
is nauseating.
Hell, indeed,
for you,
is other people.

I would give you
a wafer
& wine
instead, but that,
too, reeks
of flesh
& of that
you've eaten
your fill.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015