Blocked Out

I couldn’t find your apartment today.
That place that was once like Mecca to me
the veritable epicenter of my thoughts, hopes and avenues of expression,
the place,
the place,
where it all went down
and then again
and back again.

All that.
I was near
– unlike you –
and I thought enough time had past
so I might stop by the entrance
and pay homage
but I couldn’t find it.

The block had changed
or I had changed.
Maybe I’ve grown
and the same old fetishes have lost their meaning
and I no longer am stuck in the same old patterns.
Maybe I don’t see you
and those days
the way I did.
Maybe my glasses have changed their tint.

perhaps my glasses are the same
and my eyes have suffered
Maybe I just couldn’t see the numbers right.
It’s really been a long time
and I’ve become a very old man.

Whatever has become of you?

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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