LIKE A FART IN A BLIZZARD

is about
how noticeable
we are.
Poof.
Gone.
Hardly
a stink.
And that's a good thing.
So much noise.
So many open mouths.
So much dross.

I am having
franks & beans
for dinner.
Thick pork and nitrate lined dogs
& honey laden thick syrup baked beans.
I will not go out
without a fight.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

WORKING OUT THE MATH

A hundred,
she said.
I had
a fifty.

Give an old man a break,
I said.
You don't look that old,
she replied.
Depends on the part,
I said.

How old?
Six nine.
That is old,
she said.
Wait,
it's comin for you, too.
I ain't makin thirty.
You'll make it...
or maybe get lucky.

You sound like my father--
75, but that's it.

C'mon, I said,
I need to get away; escape
for ten or fifteen minutes.


OK fifty for fifteen;
if nothin's happenin
you use your hand.

I'll say a prayer.

Say two.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

THE BEST LOVERS

are a shade short
of brilliant,
deeply disturbed.
somewhat &
sometimes
unhinged,
swinging
like a handkerchief
in the wind.
They have creases
& scars despite
their age
are nutty & flakey
and twist your words
on themselves
& imprison you
gladly
& madly
beyond your meager
understanding.
They make
unscheduled stops
in your heart.
They move
on white lines
in black streets
the asphalt hot
& sticky from
their all day heat
inside your head.
What magic
they make.
Don't die
before finding one.
Go out now
make yourself
miserable.
You'll thank me
later.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

ASSHOLES & OPINIONS

are man's common denominator--
that's all we have:
song & dance men
who are Nobel Laureates,
bus drivers & whores,
professors
of communication,
bricklayers, privates
& generals,
the Dalai Lama & The Pope,
pimps and the talking heads
on endless TV shows throwing-up
opinions & angles & breakdowns
& break-ups & stats that stink
like frog farts and fermented
bromides. Our hearts are coal mines
of sin.
We knew Hillary
was wrong, full of shit;
we knew she just mouthed the words
of the socialist Jew...and we let her.
We knew Donald
was an anti-semitic racist cocksucker
who's nature was to gyp & lie & destroy
every tit he couldn't suck, but at least
he wasn't her--that was our out pitch.

We knew that it was not possible
that Rachel & Lawrence & the Chris'
had never heard the word "pussy" before.
We knew that their surety spelled doom.
We knew that the locker room
was our bedroom
and boardroom.
We knew that artists
and entertainers
and agents
and the corner magicians
are either sucking your blood
or sucking your cock.
Their purity,
their sanctimoniousness
made me retch.
We know doctors
who shouldn't be practicing,
lawyers who should be locked-up,
teachers who should be strung-up
yet do nothing, say nothing.

Poor people
have always been fucked.
But this time their assholes leaked opinions
and it cost them
nothing.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016

WE WAZ ROBBED

Your parents robbed ya;
your teachers robbed ya;
God robbed ya;
you bounced
against walls,
slid down pipes;
tied to hissing radiators;
you ate
empty plates;
your stomach filled
with air; your heart swelled
with dread;
they diddled your privates;
told you about good boys
& good girls & chugged
a fifth
or fucked
a neighbor
or gave you a wafer
& wine breathed hope
of a heaven
so far from your daily hell
it might as well have been
a Saturday cartoon.

And then a warning
not to tell
even yourself
because all you do
is lie anyway.
Now
go out
& play.

I will vote
tomorrow
for any party
I'm not
invited
to
be
in.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 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

IT GOT LATE EARLY

It could have been
the noise
from their fights
for cheap power
or my panic
of drowning
in my own fears?
Maybe
it was shoddy
craftsmanship...
you know,
poor wiring,
from the manufacturer,
but whatever
it was
a part
of me
went dark
early on
and no matter
what I've done
or tried to do
that light
has not even
flickered.
The switch
has simply
been out
of reach
since.
And now
I'm tired,
too tired,
to even
look.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2016