Lynne Savitt
Relics of Lust
New and Selected Poems
NYQ Books
New York, NY
© Copyright 2014 by Lynne Savitt
Softbound,
$18.95, 256 pages
Review by Zvi A.
Sesling
Sex. Forty or
more years of it. One would think
there’s too much of it. Forget the
thought. There’s not enough! Lynne
Savitt, as the blurbs say, has been writing poetry since the early seventies,
mostly about women and their sexuality.
In this book, as well-known poet A.D. Winans states, “Savitt is the
queen of sensual poetry, with a sense of humor second to none.” He must have been reading Everything I Know About Life.
Everything I Know
About Life
can be summed up
in just one
sentence
he forces her
legs
open with his
knee
and before she
can
fantasize about
tahiti
it’s over
Or, if you prefer
something a bit different, perhaps from someone who is a bit more mature and
doesn’t particularly consider herself a cougar but still sexy in a poem try
this one:
Your Lover Is Too
Young For You If
he puts your
pantyhose on his head
doesn’t know the
words to You Made Me Love You”
thinks Jack
Nicholson is old
drinks any light
beer
uses inexpensive
condoms
lass as long as
you do
was born the same
year as your son
Savitt’s view of
writing is also a bit different than some might expect, but leaves the reader
with plenty to fantasize about, in fact it goes the reader something to write
about.
Writing
my friend leo
says
it’s okay to get
old & fat
to be remembered
as a blonde
dream carrying a
rose
a pink velvet
ass bent over
a car fender
a warm mouth
wet as the
tropics
all you need
to write, he
says,
is the memory
he continues
through
the phone wire
as you put yr
fingers under
the elastic of my
mauve lace
panties
memory blazes
poems poems poems
There are also
poems entitled “For My Pals, Penises, Poets & Penitents Who’ve Passed In
The Nineties,” “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished,”
and many more whose titles belie the serious aspects of her poems. Take for example
What Do I Tell My
Granddaughters
About The Movies
& Real Life
husbands punch
their wives after beers
with the boys
losing at cards or racetrack
the come home
smelling like sachet from
lingerie drawer
not yours checkbook lost while
kayaking glue
themselves to their glasses
cheaters, brutes,
idiots, sissies they kiss
or beat the crap
out of their respective
spouses who are
all unfaithful blondes
with great tits
& ass acting cool as blue
plastic ice cube
trays or brunettes in
pale pink
cashmere & nylon stockings
cheeks peaches as
produce from augusta
get grade A
education love your limbs like
branches of the
weep willow write poems
in linen clouds
dance like a vengeful rain
hump like sweet
bunnies paint canvases big
as arizona
canyons travel the world ten times
over paint yr
lips 7 cheeks with pomegranate
kiss the lover
back of any human who shares
yr joyful pain
& macro photography don’t ever
care what others
think of yourselves as warrior
princesses
deserving of the universe & own it
Undoubtedly there
are those who will (or do) not like Savitt’s poems, but I for one have become a
fan of someone who can mix the serious with humor and make sex into the kind of
something we can experience through her.
Men are the all-conquering heroes of their sex while Savitt bares the
truth. Her poems can be funny or
touching. Playful or serious. You don’t
last some forty years successfully publishing poems unless you have something
say.
_________________________________________
Zvi A. Sesling
Reviewer for Boston Small Press and Poetry Scene
Author, King of the Jungle and Across Stones of Bad Dreams
Publisher, Muddy River Books
Editor, Muddy River Poetry Review
Editor, Bagel Bards Anthologies 7& 8
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