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.
Monday, December 14, 2015
THE TICK OF TOCK
cannot be
reclaimed.
It vanishes
& shape shifts
into an easy
old shoe
dance
of lies.
I loved
that woman.
But can't
be sure
who
that woman
is
now.
Or
who she was
then.
Only
a refrain
returns.
Who wrote it
or sung it
I can't be sure.
Years
have turned
while the wind
scratches
its dead
from branches.
Soon it will be dry.
And then moist.
A jack-o-lantern smile
will beckon.
And then jingles.
And I'll be me
and you, you.
What could be
never was.
Perfectly
empty, allowing
a metronome
of sorrow
to play
over
& over
& over
again.
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2015
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