Author Archives: Jonathan Berger

She told somebody else that she liked how I danced so that piqued my curiosity my interest and my attraction. I went to visit her dorm and because she had trouble sleeping occupied her attention well into the evening. That … Continue reading →

Walking down to the pier my sister asked an uncomfortable question. “How long have I been dead?” “You know I don’t like to talk about this,” I said. “Still, it’s been weighing on me.” “It’s impolitic.” “Hey,” she said, “Hey! … Continue reading →

When you asked if we were dating I thought, “Shouldn’t you know that already?” but I sighed and I smiled and I said with the patience of a marm that we were dating if you wanted us to be and … Continue reading →

The filth quietly collected, grimey and dirty and full of grease, all around the kitchen for what seemed like years. All was good with the world until the evil mop came to dispel the peace. With a bucket of ammonia … Continue reading →

Kat, I think I lied to you, to me about the state of we – of us. That’s what I should’ve said. I always sought the easier way to say the words I wanted said. I wanted you so much … Continue reading →

I’ve told the story of going to an early show and getting stuck in the corner wedged in by the seats listening to your songs and crying because I was bored literally to tears. In ensuing years, you’ve gotten better, … Continue reading →

You put the kitten in the box which you feed then to the serpents who in turn are fed to griffins which you skin down for their pelts which then you trade for ogre’s ochre that you lose in warlock’s … Continue reading →

Midtown. Mid-eighties. Our crew passes the other kids before the show. We discover cute girl is celebrating birthday before Billy Joel goes on. Thus begins impromptu a capella interactive reading of Beatles’ “Birthday,” despite it being nobody else’s “My birthday, … Continue reading →

It occurs to me that the girl in high school who had a couple of sleepovers at my house may have had a thing for me. It further occurs to me that I may not have been in the emotional … Continue reading →

We walk in the park my father and I. It is later days and he is not doing well. Other people know my father is dying but they do not mention this to me. Perhaps I sense this, though, for … Continue reading →