Showing posts with label crossing borders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crossing borders. Show all posts
Saturday, November 5, 2016
JUST SO MUCH GOD YOU CAN GET NEXT TO
Maria was
a Seven Day Adventist
and gorgeous.
A priest
would have eaten
a stained glass window
to get next to her.
I, on the other hand,
was right next to her.
We sat asshole to elbow
in a teeny-tiny office
in a drug rehab joint
in Williamsburg Brooklyn
over forty years ago.
There were three of us
in there, all ex-junkies; the other chick
helped Carlos, the boss reformed junkie
do everything
he couldn't
or didn't want to do.
Williamsburg was still a slum
before the hipsters
destroyed it. Roosters
cock-a-doodle-do'd
in the early morning
waiting to fight
or be cooked.
And everybody
wanted me to fuck Maria,
except Maria.
She wanted me to pray,
eat better
and read
The Watchtower.
Oh yeah, and repent.
I could do every one of those things
except eat better--a man
has his limits.
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016
Sunday, August 21, 2016
YOU SHOULDN'T DO THAT
For A...
to me
on Skype--
or in person
for that matter
--without telling me
to have the paddles
at the ready.
You know
I'm old
& easily
aroused.
Same time
tomorrow?
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016
to me
on Skype--
or in person
for that matter
--without telling me
to have the paddles
at the ready.
You know
I'm old
& easily
aroused.
Same time
tomorrow?
Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016
Labels:
age,
arousal,
crossing borders,
distance,
interventions,
proximity
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