THE POPE DOES NYC

For an old guy
he sure does get around:
He's gonna do Vespers
at St. Pats, kick some ass
at The UN, graze in Central Park,
pray at Ground Zero, & say Mass
at MSG--who does he think he is?
Diana Ross? Elvis? Sinatra?
Stevie Wonder?
Simon & Garfunkel!?
He ain't even
The Grateful Dead
or Joe Louis
or the god-awful Knicks!
So what he's sincere?
So what he's "authentic?"
So what it's him that's the real radical
of our times?
preaching mercy?
understanding?
dialogue?
He's fucked-up the buses, messed-up
the trains, made going to
and coming from work
fucking miserable, a nightmare,
a day of futility.
Damn...

Let us
pray.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015

BUS STOP BLUES

Sometimes
waiting for a bus
is enough
to send one
over the edge.
The sun hot
enough to fry
ovaries & gonads,
sweat pouring
into your underwear
as you watch
wheelchairs run over
walkers that topple
over legs splayed
over curbs holding
up the infirm the demented
the luckless, the loveless,
the broke dreamers,
the damned who only know
others just as damned.
And now
you know it,
too.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015

THE EVOLUTION OF MAN

can be witnessed
in real time
anytime
your balls
or ovaries
clatter to the tracks
on the NYC subway
or probably
any third rail
artery
in any urban hell
in any town
in any world.
You find yourself
amidst the slithering,
crawling, chirping,
and gurgling
half-demented
Tourette's stoked dreams
of fellow citizens
in our tormented march
from one hole
to another.
No one
is far
from the caves
and Savannah's.

Most of us
are weak
and know
we are weak
and stand
next to
predators.
Anything
can happen:
stabbed
while donating
to a deaf and Jewish
Jesus; pushed
off the edge
while contemplating
suicide; fleeced
while being felt;
hustled
while hustling.

Once,
not too long ago,
we were apes
with clubs.
Now,
we are apes
still, but
with nuclear weapons.

En guard.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2014