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.
Friday, July 8, 2016
BORN WHITE
I was crazy
but never worried
about being stopped
or frisked or shot
dead by the boys
in blue when nuzzling
a girl at two or three
in the morning
or pretending
I was tough
with a Coney Island crew.
Even when
I was carrying
reefer or dope
on a black block
I was more afraid
of being ripped-off
then shot by a white cop, who,
was more afraid than I was.
I had ownership
of the country
& the world.
To me
it was a bad break
to be born black;
it allowed me
to steal
their music,
their colors,
their magic and
their pain. I took
what served me
with both hands
& gave them
lip service
or silence.
I did with them
only what I wanted,
which amounted to
a spectator sport.
Nakedness needs
to be bled; the cut
needs prayer.
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016
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