For my brother, Bobby: ...as a result of an afternoon conversation, 10/23, where we tripped down the road to Hell, but found a marriage made in heaven...A random fragment of that conversation.
It feels like shit, I said,
if you wanna know the truth:
legs, shot;
lungs, shot;
heart, stoppard by pinpricks of lunacy;
dick, marcescent, safe
as a steel condom
molded to the shaft,
weighing heavy
in the mocking mirror's grotesquery;
a bunghole corked, a runway
stacked-up with cancelled flights
of fancy...my brain, though,
and I'll be a sonofabitch,
still revs past the red line.
What else do you wanna know?
Those?
Those are paint chip stalacites;
when I'm working, getting this shit down,
they threaten to behead me,
forcing that ground control asshole
to get the flights out
before this soul crushing ennui
denies my reprieve: fucking
with words.
Because that, my brother,
has been the one thing that works,
that still works,
against the honest vows
spawned from bullshit & bravado.
They've allowed me to look
for angles, for impossible
bank-shots; to see behind
dead ends & rear ends & time bends
& warped trends; they've allowed me to wait
behind lies for easy preys
and rare sightings; they've made sense
of nonsense. They've given me shelter,
a vacation from life, if you will,
from solitary--
And all I had to do
Was wait...and bite
into a Lucky Strike
between pursed lips
for the next good word,
for the next good line.
Simple
ain't it?
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2019
Showing posts with label Reprieves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reprieves. Show all posts
Friday, December 6, 2019
THE VIEW AT 72
Labels:
72 years old,
aging,
Being 72,
Living Life,
masks,
Reprieves,
survival,
writing
Tuesday, December 3, 2019
OUT OF IT
You need a day
like I had today:
fucked-up
and feelin fine;
free from my history
and those dark voices
that whisper & tongue
your inner ear.
Not a wink of sleep
and a few extra pills
for all the pain
real & imagined,
ingrained in a cycle
of anticipation,
did the job
of snatching from the jaws
of gods and demons
billows & breath
as a fog disappeared
into the earth.
There is that space
that waits for you.
Listen for it.
Trust it.
It is the only place
they can't take from you--
and they never could.
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2019
Labels:
Alcohol flirtations,
Demons,
Gods,
Gods & Demons,
Mind trips,
Opium dreams,
Reprieves,
Secret Places,
Tripping,
Vacations
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