Author Archives: Jonathan Berger

UNDER THE GROUND "Renters are fifty percent more likely than homeowners to be buried alive." I did not read that on a poster this morning while riding on the train – though I thought I did. I think I need … Continue reading →

THE TRIP She didn’t want me. She swore that early on before she knew what such things meant she had sworn an oath upon eternity that she would marry a man named Mark Milton III. "Is your name Mark Milton … Continue reading →

NOTIONS OF FLIGHT When next you come calling I’ll be wearing more clothes taking fewer drugs and talking less shit. There will be none of the vomit the crying, spying or vying for attention. The talk will be civil and … Continue reading →

ACROSS THE ETHER Dear Nadine, Your pictures on your website are so beautiful so much moreso than you were when we met last week. I had no idea you were such an important artist no idea how much you could … Continue reading →

TOGETHER AGAIN You know, I don’t think they’re coming back. They’ve been in the shed for a while now and I think we’re on our own for the rest of the night. Me? I’m stuck here. Judd was my ride. … Continue reading →

WEDNESDAY MORNING, 3AM You’re drunk and you’re messy and it’s late and you’re saying things that you probably don’t mean. If you want to continue this conversation we can try again in the morning if you remember anything. I will … Continue reading →

FIVE YEARS FROM Five years from now, a change’ll have already come. Five years from now, this will all seem clear. Five years from now, She will have broken your heart three times more and your brother’s twice. Five years … Continue reading →

THE ONE There is a poem about you – one – that I haven’t written yet. It is a poem of exhilaration and culmination and sunswept scenes in erotic locales. It is a description of events from epic fantasy where … Continue reading →

EATING C You wanna get Thai? I’m not sure my stomach is ready for it but I’ll go if you want to. Really, I’m good with anything. You want Indian buffet? How about that little Italian place I’ll never go … Continue reading →

THE BOOK When Elvis sings “Everyday I write the Book” on stage alone accompanied by guitar, he will have changed it much since its eighties’ heyday. The TKO horns are MIA. The stellar backing of his longtime Attractions are gone … Continue reading →