jonberger

She used to pull the hair out of the brush
and leave it in the ashtray
and he, when no one was looking,
would pull out a match
and light a match and set it off,
watching the follicles go up,
each independently,
until the full blaze caught
flaring and blowing in one final blowout.

He stopped doing it when she stopped smoking
and the ashtrays disappeared from the house.

Though he still loved the fire
he didn’t have the opportunity
to get it going anymore.

There may be a lesson here
for any who care

to learn it.

There is more than the bare minimum to complete, don’t you think? You could have just a little more than one single drink.
When you choose your tattoo, you don’t use clear ink.
If you’re gonna report the crime, go in whole fink.

I know you’re hearing my words, but feeling ambivalent
and wondering “What if going whole hog makes some cog act violent?” To that I would suggest you should be vigilant
but otherwise I’d advise you remain silent.

I hope you understand this one thing new
that I’ve been working really hard to impart all day, too.
This is the lesson to learn, I’m trying to tell you:
If you will choose to do a thing, do it all the way through.

I’m sorry I kept finishing your sandwiches.
I just saw you leave your bread
and meat on the table
and I felt a compulsion
to complete it.
I didn’t know what else to do.

But then, what were you doing?
Why had you just abandoned those items
there on the table?
What inspired your actions?
Why leave them things there
if we were not somehow in some sort symbiosis?

We are a team.
I know it.
We finish each other’s sentences sometimes.
Certainly we should be finishing each other’s sandwiches, don’t you think?

It took sixteen days
to get the burnt oatmeal smell out of the kitchen
and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the marks off the wall but that’s just as well.

They match perfectly with the memories
of delivering the horrible-looking cookies to you
and your amazing reaction.

I’m so glad you liked them.
I’ll see you as soon
as I can bake again.

The world is not fair.
The world is not just.
We are a cruel people
through there are saints among us
seeking to teach us how to be.

Ringo Starr’s got blisters on his fingers
for the sins of the world
and you continue to cherrypick
all the peanut butter cups
out of the candy mix.

Todd Rundgren works,
rather than banging on the drum all day
and she just posted another scathing review
of another comic book
because they didn’t remember the Joker’s origin story.
Here’s a hint: there isn’t one Joker origin.
IT CHANGES EVERY TIME!

Elvis Costello keeps on writing that book
when he really could have moved on to touch typing by now.
Meanwhile, what are we up to?
We’re watching the Saw franchise.
Why are we watching the Saw franchise?

Our heroes are doing everything
and we are failing them.
It’s wrong.
We are wrong
and Ringo has blisters.

He noticed her at his mother’s funeral
which was a great consolation.
He was unable to get away
to thank her for stopping by
but it was perhaps the most meaningful visitor
he saw on the day
other than the deceased
(though if she hadn’t shown up
it would be a very different
sort of occasion!).

He wanted to offer her
his great appreciation
for her kindness that day
and devote as much attention
as she would allow
but he never found the chance
before he left the town
and moved away
where he thought about her
more and more
until, like his mother,
his love for this girl,
too, passed away.

She never knew he loved her.
Years later
after everything had died down
friends let her know
and she had to be reminded who he was.
She said, wrinkling her forehead,
I remember getting a letter
from a secret admirer,
that he would graduate
then come back to marry me
and that I should wait for him.
But he never gave his name
or his address
so I had no way to ask
just how long to wait.

Eventually she married another
someone whose identity and location she needn’t guess.

He put a letter in the paper
congratulating her
but it wasn’t her local paper
so she didn’t see it.
She might not even have seen it
years later
after everything died down.

When asked if she suspected
his affections, she would remind
that, to her recollection,
they had never spoken.
He had never introduced himself.
She had no way to know him
as much of anything.

It’s strange, she said,
he would hardly have suffered
from too much shyness
considering.
Of course, she said that later
wrinkling her forehead
after everything had died down.

When he had to go out of town
he asked me to stalk her for him.
He wanted to make sure
he didn’t miss anything important
on her day to day activities
I guess.

Either this was before social media
or maybe she’d blocked him
I don’t remember.

Either way
I had the assignment
of following her around town
keeping tabs on her life
providing back in curt reports
occasional pictures
short descriptions of her activities
informing of all her adorable goings-on.

I did not get caught.

Did I fall for her?
Of course not
though she was a beauty.

I was steadfast in my objective
a loyal friend.
I served him well
and offered him more ammunition
for his secret love affair
with the girl
he was too frightened
to ever talk to.

Her eyes were very beautiful.

He loved her from afar.
He would never walk through
though the door was oft ajar.
The width from which he watched her
was enough to see her well
enough to tell me tales
of just how much his heart would swell

when glancing at the vision
of her passing in a coach.
"Why don’t you ever talk to her?"
I once ruthlessly broached.
"I do not flirt like officers,"
he answered haughtily.
He was the most imperious
best friend I’d ever see.

Still, devotion was his byword;
he loved that girl quite greatly.
He even drew up kidnap plans
to use precipitately.
As all this tale, his snatching plans
never would occur
for though it shocked me to see
my friend proved quite demure.

The time I wrote my big-ass essay
about staying at the 24-hour Red Lion Diner
during a late-night snowstorm
was posed as an adventure
but I did it when my friends
had opted to hitch-hike back to school after midnight
and that was just a bridge too far
over the bridge back to Amherst.

So I stayed in Northampton overnight
looking for stories in a sleepy greasy spoon
where really,
everyone was just looking for a little peace and quiet
and really,
I was just looking for a little safety and security
and everybody got what they were looking for.

Just to set the record straight.