jonberger

In the darkness of the nightin the absence of the light
in your power, feeling slight,
I took you to the water.

I led you to the ocean, which you had asked to see.

You stared upon it, seeming awed.
Your hands on my back, fingers clawed.
The night had started very flawed
(and then we thought of water).

But upon reaching the beach, it changed dramatically.

We saw something that night, we two:
The sand, the salt, the waves, me, you!
If possible, our passions grew
when going to the water.

In seeing the edge of the country, we found finality.

At this college up the hillwe end with a performance art aspect
where we Ring the Bell to celebrate
that we have passed our Division III,
an all-important requirement to graduate.

Once I’d finally bribed the right people
and was scheduling my own bell-ringing event,
I was making up flyers and developing posters
to put out the good word.
Before the Internet, we used tools like paper
to inform others of events. It was hit-or-miss.

There was a particular ex I wanted to invite
but we hadn’t been speaking
– and had no real mutual contacts.
So I designed a poster for her dorm structure
and made a point to put it up specifically over there
for her, with annotations she might get
if she happened to read it.

I couldn’t invite her to come
but I could inadvertently provide her the information to just stop by.
She didn’t make it. Great turnout otherwise.
Fantastic event.

To this day,
I still have special people
I want to invite to special events
that I seek surreptitious ways
to mind-trick them into coming.
It never works.

The question may be who’s zoomin’ who?
But the real question probably is
"What the fuck does that sentence even mean?"

“You kept running away,” she said,
pushing me against the wall,
pressing me into place
in a very unfamiliar way.

“I didn’t mean to,” I gulped,
coming up for air
as she pulled herself off of me.
I didn’t want her to,
but I felt uncomfortable
vulnerable. Who could see us here?
Would we be in the way?

“Should we go somewhere?”
I asked, knowing full well
we’d just left her apartment
because she had places to go
and I was no longer
in great shape to be traveling much at all.

“No, I gotta go,” she sighed,
looked at me with those eyes,
and leaned upon me again
in a way I would soon come to know
quite well.

We walked from the stairwell to the elevator.
She pushed down, and the door began to slide.
When we were enclosed,
it began again.
There was nowhere to run.

I never said
“I’m sorry for your loss,”
though I am.
It just seems so trite to say
and I’m so late now in saying it
I’d rather express something with a bang.

That’s important, isn’t it?
Being impressive in commiseration.

I also want to say “Congratulations!”
for your recent successes,
but that seems rather too insipid, as well.
Really, I must be more original than that,
so quiet brooding will have to do.
Perhaps you’ll understand while I maintain
a secret distance all this time
but probably not.

Know that I’m thinking of you, though,
even as I convey it
in no discernable way.

We were playing catch in the hallway
as you do when you’re in Fifth Grade
and laughing and joking
as you do when you’re boys
and I threw a little high
as you do when you’re uncoordinated
and I hit the light fixture on the ceiling
and time
slowed
immeasurably.

There’s slow motion
and there’s indolent.
Time went torpid
as I watched the beauty
and the horror
of the glass shattering
then raining down
onto the floor
only to crackle further
into tinier pieces
below.

No one was close enough to the glass
to be hurt
but it was an explosive event
nonetheless.

“I’ll pay for it,” I said,
but was glad that no one heard.
Who knows how much the city school system pays
for their lights? Thousands?

Mrs. Rosenfeld came out of her classroom
to see what was going on
and soon enough
we all knew who was at fault.
I didn’t hide it.
I couldn’t.

I didn’t have to pay
in money
but the guilt was powerful
for the rest of the day
and I didn’t play in the halls
for at least a week after that.

Time sped up
and I didn’t stay ashamed
for what I had done
for long.

My vegan meal was accidental.
My veg meal was totally nice.
My vegan meal was monumental.
My vegan meal was rice!

It’s not like I eat vegan often.
I frequently dine on meat.
I have said on many an occasion,
“If my plate didn’t scream, it’s not sweet!”

But I opted to try something different
and I might try again tomorrow.
Though it seemed inconceivable, I find it believable
I could eat meals without causing sorrow.

Is this a life-change? Not on your life!
But I may try again; eat without strife.
For as nobody said, not one husband nor wife:
“Live by the spoon, not by the knife.”

You showed me your tattoo.
You read me your poetry.
You took me to your special place
at night
in the dark
where things can get
scary.

We were alone
and I thought it meant something
– it did to me.

But I suppose
these sorts of things
mean less
to you.

I suppose
I meant less
to you.

I am terribly sorry
that I misconstrued.

The thousand dollars you owe me
was a small price to pay
to get you out of my life
but I think I’d pay it again
to get you
out of my fucking head.

Are cats truly worthy of love?
Better people than me
have asked the question
but perhaps not answered quite so quickly:
no.

They are selfish creatures, cats.
They steal your blackberry pie
and keep the remote to themselves
and don’t pay the rent promptly in February
and are bad with putting laundry in the hopper
and I can’t even tell you about their Andrew Lloyd Webber sing-alongs!

Cats are not worthy of love.
They are not capable of love.
They are not capable of fluff, even
– nor do they remember to pick it up at the store.
I don’t think I like cats anymore.

Screw ’em.

You heard me, Cat!

It’s a shock and it’s a wonder
and it’s amazing that we’ve been able to come up with it
considering it hasn’t proved workable for generations before
but finally, we have an efficient police force that does not
degrade and kill our young men and women at an alarming rate
while spending such alarming amounts of our City’s budget.

We’ve cut costs!
We’ve made the cops polite civil servants
working for the public good!
We’ve gotten the police to help remove bad apples from the ranks
and they seem to be improving yearly. YES!

This has been a fantastic change!

I really appreciate the VR experience you’ve been able to produce.
So realistic and lifelike. I could almost believe it was reality.

Modern technology can make even the most inconceivable seem possible.

Thank you so very much.