TO MAURITIUS...WITH LOVE

The blues
will tell
you...rock
'n roll
rockers
& punks
& hip
hop
artists,
the mad
painters
and soon
to be mad
civilians;
they will
shout,
scream
stomp
& stroll
down the
avenues
of the
dead;
Madagascar
will moan
& Arkansas
will sway
to the harps wind;
glass will hide
underneath a dream
of white while horses
run away
over the hills;
a deep bone ache
abides like a good
slide guitar
in a whiskey walk...
There is no better love
than the one that's
lost and
you can appear
like magic;
I've made it easy
for you:
I'm listed.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

NOW YOU KNOW

how it feels
to want
something
to be there
& it's not.
Blink your eyes.
No, uh, uh.
Blink again.
No, sorry.
Once again.
Nothing
except
the validation
of your
emptiness.
A vacuum
that sucks
any worth
you've mustered
back into
your stomach.
Tomorrow
will be better,
you tell yourself,
& it might.
I can only speak
for myself and
it's not.
The book
is done.
It hasn't
helped.
The words written
only look dead;
the life
in them
goes on.

Oh, yeah--
Happy Birthday.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015