The terrorists won.
They redefined the game.
They set the standard
for how we are to be
from now on.
The terrorists have us living in fear
speaking in divisions
ignoring the use of shade or nuance
so all we see
is monochrome.
We are servants of the terrorists
for we live
at the behest of their shadows.
Well played, terrorists.
It worked as you supposed.
You’ve won.
For your sake,
I hope the victory isn’t pyrrhic
but even if not,
I’m unsure you’ll enjoy the spoils.
We have talked through these plans incessantly
meeting after meeting
conference upon conference call
we have planned and argued
through weekends and lunches
we’ve yelled and argued
until being almost blue in the face
and it seems we are no closer to a resolution
that we at the start.
Can we at least settle
on the continent
where our next corporate retreat
will be held?
VPs and above:
how does Antarctica sound?
There may come a time
when our customer base must acclimate
to updates in our service terms
and the mandate our current position
in the world of finance will soon require.
This is to say
when our aims of asset accumulation
supersedes our desire for customer satisfaction,
said customers may react accordingly.
We anticipate there may be violent reactions
when we increase charges for basic functions
in our Environmental Affairs division
and Pharmaceuticals
and Energy Solutions.
Research anticipates 80% likelihood
of riots against the organization
when our policy changes are understood
in the First World.
We believe we have seen in smaller markets
that armed force spurs acceptance
of our updated terms and conditions
including required weekly payments
for basic quality of life functions.
The bottom line is
our bottom line will remain protected
so long as we maintain funding
for our Security Division.
I never meant to hurt you
and though I cannot deny
that cruel things were indeed said
by me
I can say with all appropriate honesty
that I had no intent whatsoever
to express any cruelty.
It was an accident.
I was drunk.
It was late
and I was tired
and I never dreamed you would hear
when I called you a ratchet-faced slag-peddler
and a fame-motivated third worlder
and a bestiality whore.
You have to believe me:
I’d never have said such things
if I had any idea that you
were right behind me,
able to listen to every word.
So, obviously I can’t take back
all the hurt and awful feelings I’ve caused
but is there something else I can offer
to make this right?
Some trinket
or gesture to convince you
that my apology is sincere?
Really, though,
let’s talk about price.
We’ve already established you can be bought.
Everything else is just haggling.
A word to the witless:
When the new girl
with the fresh face and inviting eyes
allows you to escort her home,
do it.
Offer to protect her
on the dangerous path
even if the worst thing to come
might be puddles and cold breezes.
And walk slower, for god’s sake.
This might be the last chance
you have to talk to her this week
month, or, god help you,
ever.
Limit your pace.
Luxuriate.
This, right now,
is your only guaranteed chance
to experience her,
to learn her rhythms,
her history.
After this moment
you may never get another.
Carpe the fucking diem
even if it’s night.
Use everything you have in your holster.
Admit that when you first saw her
your heart grew three sizes
and your dick four.
Make her laugh,
if you can.
Make her enjoy herself
and you
and when you’ve postponed reaching her door
for as long as you can
linger.
There may be an opportunity
to make the evening longer.
Well, Alessandra,
I really need to thank you
for the parlor trick you showed me
just the other day.
I’ve been blowing eggs left,
right and center!
Everybody has been impressed
by that trick with the hard boiled egg
and have been offering me their eggs
with which to display it.
Sometimes I fail
and sometimes I succeed
but I always get to eat the eggs
so in that way,
I always come out ahead!
My quality of life
has improved immeasurably
with the inclusion of this excellent operation
and I have only you to thank, Alessandra,
even though that’s not your real name.
Next time, the eggs’re in me!
If something must go awry today,
let it be this poem.
It is unassuming,
unimportant.
If I may suffer some failure
of some sort
let it be this day.
Let it be here.
Better to compartmentalize the catastrophes
in a way that mitigates pain.
I couldn’t stand another heartache
like the Franco-American Incident.
I want to steer clear of that sort of fear.
If there is a hill
upon which to fall,
let it be here
with these words,
these thoughts.
Let these stanzas
be the gravestone of the day
and signify ALL that had wrong.
It’s only a poem,
after all.
What matter if it fails?
I don’t know quite what’s happened
but the walls
seem to be curiously collapsing.
The world twists
into amorphous shapes
and I don’t want to be here
at the club anymore.
Where are the berets?
This is a jazz club;
I expected berets
and turtlenecks
and bongos
and less Asian people.
What the hell is happening:
why is everybody Asian?
I think the funny cigarette
you offered
is doing things to me.
Inexplicable things.
And the tune the combo
is playing swings in insidious ways.
Does this club partake
in the Black Arts?
Are these players
practitioners of evil jazz?
Oh,
I never should have left my home
in Poughkeepsie.
Mother, save me
from this reprehensible bad jazz.
Your assignment
should you choose to accept it
is to be less awful.
Your project
is to become cool
or less of a tool
or in some way not a fool,
if you dare.
Wear shirts that fit.
Look people in the eye.
Don’t stutter or mutter
or flutter around like some creepy butterfly
– a moth, I mean.
Don’t be a moth.
Or a sloth, I guess.
Or a three legged poodle
or a pock-marked cockatoo.
Just don’t be weird.
Can you handle that?
I think you can.
I hope you can.
Either way
I’m not willing to deal with you
in your current state
so do the work,
become someone tolerable
or keep out of my way.
Either works.
Good luck
– you may need it.
As the pizza reheats
I am sitting on my sofa
wondering what it’s all about.
It is three in the morning
and everyone else is asleep
and I should be, too,
but I have nowhere to go to
tomorrow morning
or afternoon, even.
I can stay up
as late as I want.
Is this freedom?
Am I living life
to the fullest
knowing that every hour is mine
to do with
as I choose?
Is this the ultimate life
or a nightmared living death?
I don’t know if I’m experiencing miracles or not
if others should be jealous or pitying
if I should maybe get a job
or a girlfriend
or even a boyfriend.
Should I be attempting to change?
This pizza is taking fucking forever
– shit, it’s burnt.
jonberger 