jonberger

Surely the space dwarves could be defeated by our hero
if he only learned their secret weakness that the professor
and our heroine discovered in the middle of act two.
But first, let’s watch this amazing action scene:

Oh wow. Lookit that.
Amazing: Rock amazons. Flying.
These effects are fantastic!
I can’t believe I’m seeing this.

I really thought the second in the series was the best,
but it’s true what they say:
the odd numbers are when the sequels really shine.
I can’t wait until Number Nine!

Oh, shit.

I don’t know if you’re up on it,
but the new superstition’s have come in
and the latest off the presses
is that if you check the wall clock after midnight
before going to bed,
you gon’ die.

I got word earlier in the day,
so I could shut down my wall clocks
and it’s a non-issue
but if you still got clocks up,
don’t look at that shit after it’s struck twelve
– which I see it has done.
You be careful now, boy.

Every minute now is a risk.

Maybe it’s best if you just go to sleep
even if you just put some coffee into you.
Just go to bed and close your eyes until morning,
that’s my advice.
Don’t look at any clocks until the dawn,
else who knows what kind of rigor mortis
you gonna experience.

Maybe you can just close your eyes
and swing a bat at your walls to get rid of that crap?

What?
Hell, yes, I’m superstitious.

Maybe you’d be, too, if you’d seen your mother’s back broken
as many times as I have.

You watch that shit, kid.

Watch that clock, too.

Are you the one to know the way through to May’s?
Has she danced every party?
How can you answer that properly?
Who are you to answer anything?
Who are any of us?

What are we, here, to speak of this?
Where is here, anyway?

Speaking of anyway, how did this topic get raised?
Are we sharing common space on this Battleship: Earth?
Would the olde B:E referred to above be the here mentioned in the earlier question?
Is it cool to be referencing all these earlier questions?
Should there maybe be a numerical system for prior questions to make things clearer?

It’s a little late now to suggest numbering questions before, isn’t it?
What’re you, a wise guy?
I’m just trying to be sensible. Do you have a better idea?
What the hell are you talking about?
Can we focus here?
What the hell is the plaza of May’s discotheque?

Could you repeat that?

What?

Violet looks at you quizzically,
as if you’re going somewhere.

You gaze at Violet wonderingly,
knowing she’s going many places.

She’ll probably be on the road in minutes,
her shining mane flowing as she catches a ride out of here.

You have no idea where she’ll go next.
She may not either,
but you’re sure adventure’s coming.
A fiddle by her side, leather on her back,
tie-dye in her bag,
the world is hers as long as she wants it.

"Get that look off your face, boy.
I’ll be back in no time," she says.
You doubt you’ll ever see her again.
You hope you’re wrong,
but you don’t think you are.

Violet is too big for your world.

You ask for her autograph,
which makes her snort,
since you’ve known each other
all your lives.

She doesn’t see how serious you are.
You don’t know if you’re experiencing prophecy,
or just being foolish.

She laughs and then scrawls on your pants.
You know you’ll never wear them again.

She’s gone and a part of you is as well.
Obviously.

We never spoke honestly
and by “we” I mean me.
You may have been as honest as can be
– I’m not in your head.
I’m in my head all the time,
and I can tell you I was not honest
– certainly not enough.

I did not speak the truth
when you asked me what I wanted.
I played easy-going
but I never am.
I am hard-going
and anxious
and snappy
and this almost certainly played into
why I am your ex now.

If I could have spoken the truth,
perhaps you would not have lost patience with me
so quickly.

I hope that is true.
That would give me something to shoot for
with someone else.

I’ve got a sleep mask that changes everything.
I can sleep through the night now.

I don’t have to see all the ridiculous lights out in the city;
I am blind to everything I need to be.

It is wonderful:
the world is limited to what I need it to be
which is nothing.
I see nothing now
and I can live with that.

When I wake up in the morning,
I don’t know if it’s noon or nine
or near three AM.
I don’t have a clue until I take off the mask
and look at a clock.

The mask turns everything around for me!
Damn, I wish there were sponsorship opportunities
– let me shill for you guys.
I’ll say whatever you need.
I love ya’ll!

Summer simmers. Summer steams.
Summer stares at you, expecting you to stay situated, knowing that heat rises
moisture dribbles, drips, drains away, back to the river,
where you can go to see the sea wash all your water off. You can’t have it,
since Summer steals it, sneaking sweat off you,
precipitating perspiration’s disappearance.

Autumn anticipates absence, but offers abundance in the interim.
Autumn is easy. Autumn experiences entertaining escapades!
Autumn is all about awfully enjoyable execution of effortless actions.
Autumn falls into fun, frequently failing to flop. Fall is all about
getting around and loving it.

Winter waits for you,
warning you about moving.
Winter quietly advises against it.
Winter sits in silences, icily wondering if you’re going to try anything
knowing how hard it is to move, to get around in his months.
Winter lays a withering gaze your way, willing you to recognize it ain’t worth it.

Spring sings, swings and springs again! Spring spectacularly builds up
all the way to the top. It can’t stop, Spring can’t, and it goes until it hits a wall.
It’s wonderful, that time of year is. There’s nothing to fear when Spring is here.
It’s all joy for girls, boys, and all others under the moon. Soon everyone
will be under the sun, too, since Spring loves you.

Schwervon! were the band of the week
and they were touring sporadically
but their awful cat needing watching,
and I was just the sort of guy to do it.

When they got back from the UK,
they offered me, among other goodies,
a sleeveless Union Jack shirt.

It was a Medium.

I haven’t been a Medium
since I was quickly growing out of children’s sizes.

“Thanks!” I said.

I tacked it on my wall,
in the hopes of eventually slimming down into that size.

Even when I lovelorn lost scores of pounds,
that shirt couldnt fit,
though I came closer than ever before.

It’s a lovely shirt.
Since it’s a gift, I can’t bear to part with it.

Schwervon! left town a decade ago
and I’ve had to paint my apartment
so it’s off the wall now.

I don’t know if I should put it back up,
as further inspiration,
or if I should give up the ghost.
I’ve lost weight in the last few years
but I’m not close to the size of that shirt.

Is it time to Brexirt?

When I lost my Cousin Ted,
I lost his wife Beverly at the same time.

She didn’t die, but she developed severe Alzheimer’s
after a COVID infection that killed Teddy.

It was really rough for that family.
I never got to see her after that.
In the short term, visits weren’t allowed,
and by the time we could have gotten to her,
I’m not even sure where she was living.

She’s probably gone by now.

Beverly used to be a poet.
Not necessarily my kind of stuff,
but we used to be able to share that side
of the universe.

There aren’t many in my family
that share the artistic bug.
Bummer to have lost one.

Also: bummer that I’m taking to saying “bummer.”

Buddy, I’m telling ya:
clean me or kill me.

It’s been years now.
You got me over half a decade ago.
You’ve been using me day in, day out.
It’s a lot of miles, a lot of water you’ve put through me.

I get your logic: “Water’s clean; he must be flushed through a lot.”
But you’ve also put a lot of your saliva into me, and your germs.
There’s plastic residue.

Just wash me out, man. It’s time.

I know there were two of us at first.
I’ll bet you’re sad you lost my sister-in-arms.
I know I am. When we were both around,
I wasn’t so overtaxed.
Now, it’s all the time with this mouth of yours.

Clean me or kill me, kid.
If you wanna toss me, that’s good, too.
Recycling’s a fine fate.

I’ll be put to good use.
Get out there again in a new stream sometime soon.
I’ll be clean there, I can tell you that one for free!

So, look.
What’s it gonna be.
I don’t need an answer, but you need to make up your mind.
So get to it: clean or kill.
Come to a conclusion, all right?