I'M NO FOOL

I tell those
I try to help
in the patch of hell
I work in
in the Bronx.
They've been in jail,
institutionalized,
or homeless
most of their lives.
I never
lend money,
or give out cigarettes
on the first date,
I say up front.
I wait
until I'm lied to
a few times
before blessing them
with my largess.
They nod,
as if they understood,
and settle
right in
to the old
& comfortable
rhythm.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

I'VE NEVER BEEN VISITED BY THE DEAD

Maybe
they've been busy,
I've reasoned,
lighting the runways
for those
about to take off,
or land?
We all have our jobs
to do--like writing
this poem
in the dark.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

THE SONG OF THE GOAT MEN

White beards
in my bones;
swimming in a mosh pit
amidst realities entrails.
I am Nietzsche
circumcised. To Athene then
carrying blanched barbs
to a trapeze way station.
And there I balance
a dull watercolored world
of sculpture & science
with drunken rapture
saturated in music
birthing its mongrel son: poetry.

I want my madness
to possess your madness
which thrashes and pulls
the leash near snapping.
If I know
where I am I am
nowhere.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

VODKA

Don'tcha love
potato farmers?
Tilt up
the glass
& taste
Fyodor's blood,
Mayakovsky's phlegm,
the drip
of Turgenev,
the mad laugh
of Gogol,
the fever & grace
of Baryshnikov,
Vygotsky's reach...
The liquid breath
is clean
anger
only clouded
by rants
of those possessed
by a holy negation;
too holy
to be written,
too sacred
for screed,
balancing a universe
drunk
on its axis
& lonely
for its
children.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

TAKING A LEAK IN URINALS MADE OF PYRITE

All men peek
at urinals
at men
who stand
next to them
surreptitiously
checking size.
Their eyes
on a swivel
as mine were
the other evening.
O, my,
I said
to myself:
Trump,
on my right,
had a dick
like a wrinkled spigot;
Vlad had the head
of a marble.
I turned
to my left,
I turned
to my right
& zipped up
slowly.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

UNDER THE VOLGA RIVER

flows tributaries
of blood.
And that blood
flows through
the heartbeats
of dissidents.
And those dissidents
are the only ones
keeping Russia alive.
Remember that,
all those who think
those stains
on the shoes of dictators,
are freshly applied polish.
We can do more
than just bleed.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017

NARCISSISTS CHIRPING

1.

I love me.
I love me too.

I really love me.
I really love me too.

I really really love me.
I really really love me too.

I love me truly...

I love me well....

I love me wholly...

I love me broken...

I love me spent...

I love me fractured...

I love me most...

Takemedomewantmeholdmekissmethrillmebuymefeedmefondlemefuckmedrinkmeingestme

2.

I wish to be
on intimate terms
with distance
and want only
the beginnings
of love affairs.

3.

I have only walked
with those who've walked across
ponds where the ice is thin
and have flirted with blackness
more than once. And who caress
their genitalia absentmindedly
and often.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2017