jonberger

Free write.
Rite Aid.
Writing aid.
Righting wrongs in real bad songs.
Writing really bad songs.
Why do I write bad songs?
I can’t even write songs.
What am I doing here?
Start again…

Free write:
Free associate.
Free association. Shun.
Shun. Ray guns.
Shun Reagan and his anti-union policy.
Trickle down economics
voodoo economics.
and the entire political spectrum moved right
because Bonzo’s buddy.
Why do people think he was a good president?
Moving on…

Free write.
Free as a bird.
Free ride.
Fast car
Low rider.
Slow ride.
Rock on.
Rock and roll grandpa.
What the fuck…?

Good night.

She wears her heart on her hand as a soft reprimand
from a day on a date with a dud of a man
who had taken her places she’d soon understand
were distressing, disturbing, disgusting, unplanned.

After hours enchained and rubbing her wrist
and attempting escape via many a twist
when she found herself freed from her once enslaved tryst
she instantly acted upon a quick list:

and firstly, she opted to never blind date
for the predators met could be less than eighth-rate.
Second, accept not one bite from a plate
that she hadn’t seen prepped, lest she end up as bait.

Thirdly, she went out to get the tattoo,
the first on her form, a suggestivist clue
to remind her precisely the innocent who
she had been before the night she’d been through.

The image she wears above wrist, etched in ink
is a heart that is strong, Whole. And yet, mine sinks
as she tells me her tale of a night on the brink
and how, facing dark chaos, she scarcely could shrink.

For her pain and her bravery put mine to shame
and I wish I were writer enough to put name
to the feels that I feel when I think of this dame.
Still, I glory that none have yet tamed her flame.

The night wanes
into morning
and so begins the mourning
of our way of night life.

The city we love is dying.
The city we know is withering
decaying into a dust
soon to be blown away irrevocably.

This must happen eventually,
generationally.
It’s the way of things.
The old must be swept off,
atomized, making room
for the new.

Too recently
we were blasting someone else’s past
into oblivion.
I didn’t anticipate
that the tables would overturn
quite so quickly
or the dawn
would be quite so bright
but now nothing can stop
the long morning’s crawl away from night.

I said it wouldn’t last
and I was right.
Their marriage ended
after a rocky eight years
which is about what I predicted
and is about,
I realized,
what a healthy relationship should be
so all my early words of doom and gloom
and lowering of booms
were accurate, sure,
and absolutely irrelevant.

That’s what happens
when you’re completely right
and totally wrong
all at the same time.

Product of public school education
right here, folks.

Shit.
Steve broke his heart
at a year older
than I am now
and he then
was a far better man
than I will ever be.

How will I be able to survive
the vicissitudes that endangered him
so threateningly?
What makes my potential for success
any greater than Steve’s?
What hope lies in my future?
Who am I to think
I will walk out of the next year
any less broken hearted
than Steve did?

How I would appreciate
an investigation of strategy
to deviate from great Steve’s fate.

The best thing our band ever made
was based on her words.
Standing on the shoulders of giants
we tried to build something greater
and toppled – it was a tall order –
but still, did something pretty damned fine.
Though we never lived up
to her potential
still
we owe her all due respect.

This is a new song
barely written
its lyrics fresh on the page
not yet uttered once
by mortal lips.
This is virgin material we’re talking here.

It is newborn, the song,
still weaning on the milk of earlier tracks
by older artists.
It has many steps to take
before it can truly stand on its own
as an independent means of expression,
a single solitary work of art.
Still, this is a song now, recently hatched
and ready, perhaps, to be heard
by you, if you’re as excited to hear it
as it is to be heard.

This song was lifted
directly from a tweet by binkyvon.
Thanks for the inspiration, Binks,
without whom,
none of this would be possible.
Please enjoy
how your original thoughts have been elevated.

The tune is by Rachmaninoff
the recording
by Ani Oakton Quintet Players.

I see we’re out of time.
I look forward
to having another opportunity
to present this work
at some point
in the future.

You get a pass tonight
after what has just happened.
We’ll have peace tonight
because of what just occurred.
We’ll let things go
forget the recent past
because of the more recent past
and tonight
just for tonight
the valley will remain quiet.
Order shall remain our byword.
No violence shall exist between us
not this evening.
Not tonight.

We shall remain uneasy
I am sure
nothing like allies
but there will be no danger
not from me
and I will expect no threat from you.
We can maintain this in the short term
in memory of something older
at least for a moment.
At least for tonight.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
No, of course
we both do.
We know full well.
Let us hold onto this instant
then
and hope the light takes a long time
to break.

Tell me about your new boyfriend.
Is he a catch?
Is he better than me?
Smarter? Faster?
Richer? Fatter?
Furrier?
Does he make you happy?
Are you being kept under duress?
You can tell me.
Wink three times if you need a jailbreak.
Even after all we’ve been through
you know I’d try and save you
if you gave me the word.
Well, all right,
not if the word was “no.”

Tell me more
about how most excellent this man is.
How fine and kind
and wise and wonderful
you find him
every night
and every morning.
Explain further about the amazing rapport you have
and how you complete each other’s… souls?
Oh. I thought that was where you were going.

I gotta say
everything sounds pretty super
with your fella.

You’re sure?

Sometimes you only know half the story
or a fourth
or a twelfth.
Sometimes your friend complains
about how his boss is always riding him
and then you hear
how your friend’s been charged with sexual harassment
by like six of his coworkers
and maybe his boss
should’ve been riding him harder.

Or like Thanksgiving
that loving tale of friendship and community
that prefaces a couple centuries of genocide
and warfare?
We hear one kind of story
but it foreshadows another one
entirely.

Anyway
I was a real snippy bitch before
during the intermission
and I was probably right.
But
on the off-chance
I’m missing some explanation
and you didn’t deserve the amputation
I’d like to offer all apologies
for my extreme reaction.

Get well.