Archive for the LYNNE SAVITT Category


Posted in LYNNE SAVITT with tags on September 12, 2016 by Scot


because i’ve reached the ripe old age of 69
i check the obituaries regularly searching
for what man is still going strong after me
this week i found my children’s father died
in 2015 at age 69 at his home in ohio
this pediatrician left the country to avoid
child support & never recognized our son
or daughter after he stole the blue cross
check when our daughter was diagnosed
with insulin dependent diabetes at age 6
we ran into him once when my kids were
13 & 14 & he hid in his car & locked the doors
when i called his name the only other time we
saw him was a week before our son turned 21
& he took me to court to try to avoid paying back
child support he was now living again in the U.S.
we were babies when we married & i left him
happy to be free raising my kids alone working
three jobs in court he said, “i’ll hurt her the only
way i can through HER kids.” in his obit they
are never mentioned but he NEVER acknowledged
them in life why would they be acknowledged in death?
none of his declared interests had changed
& oddly enough his dog named jackson has
the same name as our daughter’s dog named jackson
he still loved his college basketball & the horses
nothing seemed to have changed except
his third wife who insecurely called herself
his soulmate in the obituary i sent my kids
in an email & neither of them had anything to say
about a father they never knew, ‘’why do you care?”
asked my daughter the truth is i never thought
about him MY CHILDREN are successful
joyful people with super kids of their own
the three of us a fatherless family
we swam the choppy ocean of life
reaching the shiny shores on our own
your loss charles cornelius newton R.I.P.



Posted in LYNNE SAVITT with tags on July 22, 2016 by Scot


for a.m.

did you get the card for the memorial
our friend, noel, “celebration of a life
most thoughtfully lived” what will they
say about us i ask you as we raise
martini glasses & light a joint looking
at photos of all our old lovers eleven
boxes in the decades we’ve known each
other’s lovers cowboys, convicts, poets,
professors, artists, mechanics, doctors,
chefs, motorcycle racers, an indian chief
& an actor we never thought this day would
come as you are to the service for once
illuminating beauty but dulled by wind &
sun mapped faces once juicy as our sex lives
now dry as feet we cream with aloe & shea
butter me up with kind words praising a life
of thoughtless pursuit & dwindling resources
oh, but the sweet memory & exaggeration of
love lies in stories bloated purple with details
how gentle & obsessed he was, how virile &
devoted our tales become classic swill but
our mirrors don’t lie look at us corpses in
training big red smears for mouths never
close the coffin & sing me a dirge wrap me
in gold-flecked red velvet use movie camera
to capture event i promise if you go first i’ll
take the sea green tulle & sequined scallop
shells float you on a gardenia covered kayak
either way, sweet pal, don’t let the legends
fade crying old lovers pulled from graves &
life to mourn us most dramatically queens
of poetry & passion may we live forever


Posted in LYNNE SAVITT with tags on March 24, 2016 by Scot










full year & one month since yr stroke
finally you will be placed in apartment
on quiet street with assistance in day
time you’ve lost a year but yr voice is

back from dead & feeding tubes
therapy more drugs than small
pharmacy to take yr left side hand
& leg not working well you balance

on cane & confidence snow falls
this first day of spring you move
into everything is new abode
bright blue furniture brings

you happy at last in over year
ago you couldn’t say my name
now i miss you & love you nightly
we speak as i remind you to take

9 p.m. medications are set each
day in tiny piles an aide helps no
bars in shower chair to sit on tell
me bed is big enough for two when

are you coming you ask me last time
i saw you i fed you small pieces of
pizza kissed yr forehead rubbed cream
on yr feet & drove home to family hundreds

of miles away i wanted to be the one
who took care of you daily i spoke
to nursing staff & sent yellow flowers
yr favorite chocolates & greeting cards

medical staff never thought you’d
make it but no one knew you like
i do love you more today than ever
strong & stubborn you beat all odds

thirteen months i called each day
sometimes three times or more
just to hear you speak my name
keeping yr promise to be
the last man standing

Last Man Standing by LYNNE SAVITT

Posted in LYNNE SAVITT with tags on March 9, 2015 by Scot


is the promise you made me
as we watched my lovers die
one by one they’ve fallen like
like toddlers in bouncy house

i was finally leaving all behind
husband, dogs, kids & theirs
wednesday after my doctor’s
appointment knowing our time

has become calendar pages
we flip realizing each day
is precious you called to check
on my progress but something

was wrong yr words choking
on swollen tongue i said call
911 but you refused i reached
yr friend since i was 200 miles

away you cannot leave me
love of my life attached to
feeding tubes paralyzed left
side unable to speak I call

constantly to hear nurses who
cannot tell me what’s happening
once i was yr wife now just a
voice whispering i adore you to

man who cannot answer hear
me, my love, i will come when
snows melt & my treatments
are finished together we will

turn our last pages together
side by side leaning on each
other listening to our own beating
red bleeding beautiful hearts

never break a promise
you must be the last man standing

on what would have been my parents’ 68th by Lynne Savitt

Posted in LYNNE SAVITT with tags on September 29, 2014 by Scot

wedding anniversary day as miserable
as their 60 year marriage i had a car
accident in a traffic circle what perfect
symbolism going round & round & round
in wheel of unhappiness i was made
dizzy by chance of lusty escape love
makes us stupid as smashing into
truck driving honda accord melted into
silver metal cake happy anniversary
dead parents from yr idiot daughter
who cannot escape yr legacy of
miserable marriages & death
of unrelenting dreams of joy

Relics of Lust by Lynne Savitt–reviewed by Bill Gainer

Posted in Bill Gainer, LYNNE SAVITT on July 10, 2014 by Scot

Available  at
lynnes bookWhen reading Savitt’s Relics of Lust you soon learn there is always one more secret to tell. To find it – turn the page. She has a way of not saying it, but allowing it – to touch you in those places that tremble from the inside out. She writes with a short breath, dares you to catch yours and reminds the world everyone is looking. Then there’s that thing about touch; when-where-how? Now, there, gently – but it is okay to bite. Just a little. Savitt doesn’t always have to be first, but she does want her turn. Relics of Lust is the scattering of the pieces of a life lived – loved well, just far enough from sin to almost be safe. She confesses, “… danger lurks in the potpourri of my / love I carry a 9 mm glock & sage / scented candles in my summer purse.” After reading Savitt I wanted to touch my finger to my tongue, breathe out slowly and just sit awhile. If you chose to read her, be careful. The secret she tells might be yours. I liked mine.

Bill Gainer, Lipstick and Bullet Holes


Two Poems by Lynne Savitt

Posted in LYNNE SAVITT with tags , on June 3, 2014 by Scot



under your parents’ roof
you become a child again
parenting the children
they’ve become drowning
in the thick power
of the last moments
of their arduous swim

you’re in love with the towel girl
the tropical oil she carries
in her little striped beach bag
her coral toenails showing
through her brown leather sandals
make you giddy

everything tingles with the
backstroke of passion
on the shore of death

afternoon sun & medication
transform the ordinary
into ultra poignant relays

you’re always out of breath
out of sorts patience understanding
but not out of humor or lust

intensity makes you attractive
the towel girls thinks so too
she wets your thighs with oil
for the reading of the will

your parents are calling
they want sandwiches without crust
lemonade with little umbrellas
the sound of your recognizable voice

the heat & salt water exhaust you
yr postcard reads, “ sometimes i wish you were here’’
the tower girl licks the stamp before you mail it
summer won’t last forever




i can only love
you as much as
i love all the others
& dear, there have been
many other than you & him
& seeing you frail beauty escapes
description when hard passion
softens like apples left on autumn
ground near where you sit soaking
sun you always loved the burn
now radiated by machine hearts
that can say goodbye can’t be
broken by gentle kiss on your chemobald
head feels like gramps after the last stroke
your wave weak as tea & i couldn’t
wave back my wrist too rigid to banner
so long a finger puppet clutching
my cracked porcelain blue tinted
heart in a thousand tiny pieces
i cannot form the word but
i can only love you
as much as i love