jonberger

You have come from a great distance
and you find an obstacle before you of some substance.
Say it is a wall.
You think of all the obstacles that have been placed before you
the distance and the threats and the people
the hunger and the heat and the blisters and the locusts
– were there locusts?
you have been too fevered to remember –
and the fevers!
It has been a long voyage to get here.

You think of where you are going
and the people behind the wall:
rebels
revolutionaries
people who throughout history
do not do what is told of them by others
who ignore rules
defy them as unjust
and make new rules
as befit a new people.

Surely, then
this wall is a test
of ingenuity and inspiration.
Only those who truly want it
will pass into the land
and you’ve come too far
to back out now, haven’t you?
What is this wall
but another thing to fall
before you?

Three days later
the burnt smell has not yet escaped.

It is far too cold out there
to truly air the place out
so the results
of my last errant attempt
to use the kitchen
remains,
a reminder

as to why domestic chores
should be left to people more responsible
more capable.

So next time you ask me to make the toast,
Sonny-Boy,
know what you’re getting into.

I am not quite sure how this will go.
The last time we saw each other
started out with an awkward lunch
at a mediocre diner
and ended with an overnight visit
to the hospital.

No permanent damage
but still.

I’m certain nothing permanent
will arise from this meeting either
but perhaps
we can spring for a nicer place?

There’s a note I just foundof indeterminate age
among my papers
that reads, "I’m sorry for what you heard.
I don’t remember saying it
but I’m sorry that you heard it."

That’s exactly the kind of weasley-ass
non-apology I’d give
in trying to avoid responsibility
as some bullshit excuse for something I totally did.

The handwriting checks out.
It’s definitely me.
Of course, to paraphrase myself,
I don’t remember writing the note
or the context in which it was written.
I’d guess college or high school
based on the kind of politics suggested
by what I’m saying.
It definitely sounds like me.

But who ever really knows
what kids are talking about these days
or those days
or some days
or something.

Anyhow,
if you’re waiting for an insincere note from me
about something I said a long time ago,
I’ve got it right here.

Will furnish on request.

I’m going down down down to Multiply City
where the girls times boys are exceedingly pretty
and the boys times boys are incredibly witty
and the girls times girls rarely love by committee!
Going back down…. to Multiply City!

If you ever get to wander in to Multiply City
you may find yourself just looking for a place to call home; a parcel or a piece of land on which you’ll make your final stand where antelope may play all day and buffalo roam.
In Multiply City, they accentuate the positive
and minimize the negative; it happens every day.
When you go, you’ll find it so, you’ll be as happy as winds blow. That’s precisely what you’ll claim upon your ultimate say.

Going all the way down to Multiply City
where the girls times boys are exceedingly pretty
and the boys times boys are incredibly witty
and the girls times girls rarely love by committee!
Going back down…. to Multiply City!

Well, the next time you stop back into Multiply City
bring a spreadsheet program or a paper and pen.
When you’re in that world, you’ll be doing calculating.
Be prepared with tools, right? Cool. I’ll see you then.
Gotta add me and you, she and she, he and he
or whatever permutation that you think makes sense.
It’s all about what you like here in M City,
When you get down to it, let the mathing commence!

We get down and dirty here in Multiply City
where we work like rabbits just to get it done well
whether me and you or Bob and Sue or Jack and Jim or Lu and Lou we do it to make it true
right here…. in Multiply City!


“What inspires you?” he asked.
I had just gotten off-stage,
and was too high off of the four people applauding,
so I began my latest symposium:

“Lately, in trying to keep up with the Halls,
I’ve been attempting to write around six pieces a day.”
“Damn,” he said.
“Yeah. There’s no way they’ll be good at that clip.
Writing so much means I have to open the floodgates
for a lot of shit to come through.

“If I lower the quality so much that I know
crap is being created,
it gives me license to play
and I’m not worrying too much about what I’m doing
and anything can happen!

“I become desperate enough to write about anything.
Like a pen
or bacon and egg sandwiches -”

“- or recent conversations!”
“Exactly! Anything becomes possible when you lower your standards!”

He shook his head, as if he were excited by the ramble I’d just gone on. “Thanks,” he said, “What number were you, anyway?”

I think you’ve been trying to tell us something.With your hints and allusions,
your suggestions and implications,
I think you’re maneuvering your way
into getting the words out
and I wish you’d get to it.

I think I’m beginning to sense it
but I don’t trust interpretations
when there’s always so much room to get things
wrong.

I have played far too much Telephone
in my wretched life.
I have played too many games
of too many sorts.
I am done with the games.

So tell me true:
What is it you
are trying to say, Donald?

Do you remember the New Years Evewhere we walked around the Village
and went to the diner
for mashed potatoes
and retired about ten?

The day was such a nothing burger
but the event seemed so ordinary,
so drab,
so domestic that I think back on it
every few years
and I wonder if you remember it
the way I do.

Probably now.
The family life is not so unique for you
nor mashed potatoes, probably,
with your Irish blood a’boilin’
when the wrong phrase is used
regarding the drink.

You may not think of that night at all.
The potatoes were kind of cold, after all,
but you were not.

The Perpetrators are on fire tonight
but I’m not that into it.
The Clubhaus is friggin’ crowded
with wall to individuals.
The walls are, in fact, sweating,
which I can tell, backed up as I am.

I spy, with my beady eyes, Carlene
with a new friend.
A very good friend
from the looks.

She doesn’t see me
but I don’t think she’d change what she’s doing at all.
It’s been a while
and it wasn’t a big thing anyway.

This seems to be a bigger thing.

Carlene appears to be doing well
though she’s not paying any more attention
to the Perpetrators than I am.

I could go and say hi
but it would be hard to get over there
and it would distract them
from what they’re doing
and what’s the point?

Better to let things stay as they ended,
I guess.

I don’t think
I could get out of here
if I tried.

You can see it all around you
the world taking arms
against her brutal treatment.
Bears invading homes.
Oceans rising.
Lakes lowering.
Blistering sun.
Violent ferns.
The list is endless.

The earth is rebelling against her oppressors.
It’s only gonna get worse
and it’s about time.

You can see the anger in nature
the rage in the storms
the fury in the flames
the tension in the plankton
as they all fight back.

They are trying to tell us something.
It may be as simple as “Fuck you!”
or as complex as “Stop fucking around,”
but rest assured, “fuck”’s involved somehow.

“Fuck” is involved somehow.