This Latest Transgression

I could not long tolerate the blessed smiles
on the faces of my horrid friends
so I left the party
to wander the streets
and ponder life’s greater problems
but really
I simply stood on the corner
outside your window
alone in the rain
trying to see you.

What kind of monster am I?

You would not want to see me here
so I am very glad
how obscured the rain has made me.
Your lights are on
so your reflection
further disguises my presence.
You will never know
that again, I follow you.

What kind of monster am I?

What kind of monster am I?
I’ve given you the space you demanded
for quite some time
and I thought I had been cured
of this particular addiction
but my feet did not know it.
My eyes do not know it.
My penis, apparently,
is a divining rod
driving me directly to your door.

What kind of monster am I?

You would not forgive me
if you knew
about this latest transgression.
I confess my aggressive need
to know your whereabouts
has proven problematic in the past
and seems that until the drouth shall rise again
I shall continue to pester
with my presence.

I am sorry for what I have done
and still will do.

What kind of monster am I?
A persistent one.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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