Author Archives: Jonathan Berger

The puppy’s very much into licking my glasses which is not a particular fetish of mine. I don’t much mind wet paw prints on my slacks or the subsequent claylike stains that follow. (they usually come out after a wash … Continue reading →

A draft of an older piece painted a perfect portrait of my feelings for you but, in fact, predated you by quite a few months. I’d like to think that some sort of artistic augury had me listening to the … Continue reading →

Look at yourself with your sad eyes in your low lands: You know full well that it could be worse. Much worse. Orders of magnitude worse. You could be dead in a ditch. You could be dead in a ditch … Continue reading →

Thank you. I don’t say it enough. I probably don’t say it ever except sarcastically or when you pay for my lap dance. You’ve been a good friend and I have not been vocal about that. I don’t think I’ve … Continue reading →

The graffiti on the wall by the toilet where I sit studying the important matters of the day reads I Heart Tracy only Tracy’s name is crossed out and directly underneath it is the name Angela. At least I think … Continue reading →

History ripples. A story’s ending one day changes dramatically with new information unloaded and new reactions and new players interacting with those other things. It’s always changing so the good guys who won yesterday may prove to be villains tomorrow … Continue reading →

Hey, little boy, don’t look so down. I mean, I get it; Jeannette’s not around and you’re wondering if she’s gonna make you smile or maybe frown. You’re scared that that girl’s had nothing to say? Well, I was talking … Continue reading →

Dude, really. You could have warned me. You could’ve given me a sign of what was to come. You know what I’m into. You know what I like. You might have shed just the tiniest bit of light as to … Continue reading →

The novels I didn’t write are pristine and perfect in my head and better than the dusty musty manuscripts typed, decaying on your top shelf. There is probably a line in one of my unwritten opa (opuses? Opera? Opi? OPI!) … Continue reading →

The band we were gonna form, the one we talked about for a minute and a half maybe a decade ago in a bar over ciders after we saw That Darned Cat in their back room huddled over your laptop? … Continue reading →