jonberger

Just to be clear:
When I tell you
that I don’t like sweet potatoes
and then later on
I admit that I now like sweet potatoes:
that is not a lie.
That is a change of opinion.
Beneath it
may possibly be a lie
that either I always liked sweet potatoes
and hid it before
or still don’t like sweet potatoes
and am choosing to deceive you now.
Possible lies
but not absolutely a lie.

When I tell you
that sweet potatoes
are known to give superpowers
and that I don’t need that
because I already have superpowers
that is a lie
because those statements are untrue.
Untrue statements are lies.

Stating facts
that are easily disproved
as non-facts
and easily proved contrary
to the reality we live in
is also called lying
like saying sweet potatoes increase life expectancy
by fourteen billion years.
Claiming your opinions
– opinions that benefit you
and your cronies –
are gospel
without offering any evidence to support your claims
is not inherently a lie
but
come on.
If you try to convince me
to buy stock in your sweet potato business
because "studies show"
the aforementioned health benefits
of the vegetable
why would I not assume you’re lying?

Placing yourself on a carpet
and saying you don’t lie like a rug
is neither a lie nor a truth
but rather
is simply very strange.
Do you understand what I’m saying?
Does any of this make sense to you?
Tell the truth.

This might hurt a little.
This might hurt a lot.
This might break your face open
and let a collection of fluids run free
fluids like tears, blood,
snot and semen
though why would semen be collecting in your face?
Beyond me…

So scream your loudest.
Get it off your chest.
Let all the pain
and frustration
and annoyance and terror out
bellowing with the fury
of a thousand run-on sentences.
It’s gonna be bad,
what you experience.
Why not try
to make it bad for everyone else?

Suffering is coming,
that’s for sure.
It’s gonna hurt a little
for a long time
or a lot
for what feels like a long time.
Either way
bad time’s a coming.
Get ready.

Husker Du covered "Love Is All Around,"
seven years after
The Mary Tyler Moore Show
went off the air.
It’s a great version of the song
with more enthusiasm and humor
than Sonny Curtis’ original
– but less hats in the air.

The band hasn’t played it
over the last seven years
or the twenty preceding it.
They broke up
so long ago
and it’s unlikely
that Husker Du will ever return.

Some things
are just too good to last
in this world.
Rest in Peace.

When you agreed
to an open relationship
I didn’t really think
that you’d already have partners in mind.
And when Rachel politely explained
how I’d misread her intentions
I was shocked
– just… shocked –
that you were already deep in
with a couple of people already.

You seem so loose lately,
no longer angry
at every little thing I say
not half as judgemental
as before our mutual decision.
Your clothes fit you better.
You are clearly
more happy
than when it was just you and me.

And I
am increasingly jealous
of the literally dozens of dudes
you’ve been dating.
I know,
you’ve only given me the names of one colleague
and two old boyfriends,
but when I think of you
with any of them
or all the others,
I get so angry.

Humanity is not meant to be monogamous.
It is unnatural,
and limits the spread of good genes.
I understand that it is only fear
and anxiety and cowardice
that keeps nerds needing to nest,
avoiding the preferable polyamory.
I get it
but every time
I see you come home
after a night on the town
with any one of your infinite lovers
I just want to fuck the Kevin right out of you.

Thank you
for sometimes letting me.

Fifteen years after I heard
you had a crush on me
Pam
and I ran far far away
I avoided you at the reunion
missing the chance to meet you
husband and two kids.
I guess I thought there was a chance
you hadn’t gotten over me
(despite never having been under me).

I sold you short
and put you in a box
that I couldn’t let you escape from.
I’m sorry.
It’s just
I suppose I couldn’t
think very highly
of any
who thought highly of me.

Just take a break.
It’s only natural.
Rest your eyes
have a nap
stretch out.
Relax
no one can blame you
if you take a break.

Take it slow.
Have a rest.
Cool your jets.
Warm yourself
under covers
in the dark.
Keep it slow.

You don’t have to strive and struggle
every minute of every day.
Not every part of you needs to pump
jump
bump into barriers
harrying carriers
up and down your street.
Just breathe.
Slow your feet.
You can pace yourself.
Sleep.

Calm yourself.
Take a breath.
Hear the birds.
Enjoy the time.
Take a break.
Please
take a break.

To all the little girls
who spoke their adorable little minds
about whatever it was
that was going through their heads today,
I say "Good for you!
Keep up the good work
and keep shouting your hearts out!"

I am proud of you
for making your thoughts known
on placards and through megaphones.
I am oh so pleased
that you are fighting the good fight
regarding whatever it is
you think is right
today.

I hope you’re never so shy
as to avoid speaking truth
to your boyfriends and husbands and bosses
and asking your fathers and brothers
to not forget your interests.
What’s good for the girls
is good for the guys too
right?
Just so long
it’s not that time of the month.

So keep it up, ladies.
Be brave
and express yourself
informing everyone that you’ve got a voice
– and a high one.
March on, babes,
but, uh…when
do you think will dinner be ready?

I have today avoided social media
as a form of quiet protest.
I have been dodging the current events
and living in subtle style
to stay away from the hurtful rhetoric
and the harmful decisions
and the warlike attitudes
and the awful art being made all around us.

No Facebook.
No Twitter.
No Instagram
or Tinder or PoF
or MySpace or Friendster.
I’ve been alone
surrounded only by reality
hard and concrete
and
I look forward to my self-imposed exile
ending.

Soon
I will re-enter the world
and hear of the things I missed
and how civilization passed me by
and know more of the trending terms
and horrible speeches
and gaffes made by the hateful eight
and much more.

I will cease my boycott of techno-society
and become one
with those around me
and be always remember
that the origins of my media embargo
was because because I was told to
by someone on my Facebook feed.

This piece was,
under no circumstances,
in no conceivable way,
undebatably,
inexorably,
an absolutely not written
during a spoken word set
by horror poet Oliver Baer.

There is no reason
– none at all –
to suspect that,
while the poet recited his deathless lines,
I was huddled in the back,
pad in hand,
ignoring his art
and scratching out my own.

This piece was written
on some other occasion
with no witnesses around
to deny my claims.
It was not composed
during any other performance
by any other artist
and, as such,
deserves no cowriter credit
to anyone else under the sun
no matter what he may claim.

This poem
was not created
in front of Oliver Baer
when I should have been paying attention to what he was doing.
This is not the case
for the next poem…

Daniel, I should never have said
you had no soul
even if that is precisely
what I suspected
at the time.

I was really hurt
when you found better people to hang with
and dropped me
like the fat ass loser I was
at the time.
You’d become cool
it seems
and your ardor cooled
soon after.

I accepted it.
I knew I had no choice
but I was bitter, upset
and the upset stewed
and soured
and, when I had the chance,
I let you know
just what I felt
at a time
that could not have been less appropriate.

My tone was wrong, too.
I was mean, Daniel,
I see that now.
I was mean and rude
because of the hurt
but I took it out on you
and I took it too far.
.
I’m sorry
that I said what I said
about how heartless you’d been
and how soul-less you’d be
and how you didn’t even care
as we sat there
at your father’s funeral.

It seemed the right thing to do
at the time.
I was cruel, Daniel,
and for that
I am sorry.