I've lived a life of madness and mayhem. I’ve had diabetes for 50 years and have been addicted to one substance of another for 45 of those years. It has been a beautifully joyful and painful schizophrenic ride: drugs, booze, women, music, writing, and learning with each new success or defeat. This blog tries to come to grips with all of life's fractures and contains everything--even you.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
THERE'S NOTHING VERY PRETTY
about my poetry,
or about my love.
I've learned both
through mistakes,
false starts,
& feeling
my way
through thickets
laced with
illusions
great
& small.
It's been
a nightmarish
dream
of opposites.
I've believed in
my hard-headed
notions
of what
this all meant,
& its been proved
wrong in its
soft-headed
naiveté.
My writings
are ugly,
unpolished &,
more often
than not,
gross.
They're messy
& not easily
digestible.
But when
they go
down, if
they go
down,
they are good
to eat
a thousand years.
Bon appetite.
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015
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