jonberger

If every poem was about you
like I say they are
you would have to be schizophrenic
– more so.
You would have to have endured
far more punishment
from my personality
than you think you already have.

If every poem was about me
was recalled from some memory
or reality
I would have to have experienced legions more crises
than I’d be capable of
in this lifetime
or Mister Burns’.

If every poem was even half true
rather than just filled with half truths
I would deserve a bitter medal
for my scathing honesty
but as it is
I’ve earned no heavy metals
no bronze nor gold
not even a sliver of recognition
for what I have done
which is the proper receipt
I should get
for all the realities I’ve portrayed.

I just saw an episode
of the Big Bang Theory
that perfectly encapsulates our relationship
which you probably didn’t see
because you don’t enjoy the kind of highbrow programming
that I do.

I’m not trying to disparage,
it’s just that
you’re not up to my standards.
No offense.
You simply live at a different clip.
Don’t get upset
– I did say “no offense,” right?

I feel things too deeply
too well
and you are not sensitive
to my needs.
You just don’t get it
I guess
and I need someone who does.
You’d understand it better
if you saw the show
but then again
you’d probably have to know the characters
to get the jokes
and anyway…
it would be this whole thing.

I wish you had seen it.
I wish you could get it
but then,
well,
you know.

The dream is fading.
Sunlight burns it away
and the memories
are evaporating into the day.

As much as I try to hold onto
what I so recently imagined
I can’t.
It’s going.
It’s gone.

Clutching
reaching
grabbing desperately
does no good.
Thoughts of the hill
and the flowers and toys
and everything that happened…

What?
What happened?
The dream is lost
and I may never
dig it out.

Hey
can we take a step back?
I’m trying to have this
conversation
without calling you a liar
and
it’s not particularly easy.

You’re not making it easy
so
can we cool down a bit?
Can you admit that it’s possible
there are different sides of the story
and that the way you’ve described events
may be
shall we say
subjective?

Can we agree
that your opinions
are not facts
and your feelings
are not always evident
before the explosion?
Can we discuss
without yelling
and argue
without fists?

Can you
just
take a step back
and reflect
and
just
shut
UP?

When you asked me to write a poem for you
I thought for sure it meant
we were gonna fuck
but upon receipt of the piece
I received nary a rut.

Was it what I wrote?
Should I have rhymed more
or written something with any kind of rhythm?
Should I have made references to mythology
instead of obscure comic book characters
that have shown up in no movies to date?

Had I misunderstood the initial request?
Maybe fucking was never on the table
or I should have cleared the table
before showing you the piece?
What am I missing?
What were you looking for
in the poem?
Did you just want to critique my style?
What’s going on?
I mean, really,
what the fuck?

So
it’s been a while
and
I know our last conversations
were tense
and beyond
but I’m glad we’re here
and I have this chance
to thank you
for what you did.

You were right to dump me.
Well, reject me
To pre-emptively deselect me
was smart and wise
and the best choice
for you.
I approve your decision.
I was a bad candidate for your love
just as you
were clearly
not right for me.

The way things went
after my attempt to earn your attention
showed just how wise you were
and how badly we were suited.
If we wanted to be so little
in each other’s lives
it was good we came to that conclusion
so quickly.

I’m happier now
spending time with better people
and it’s entirely because
you left me that space
and inspiration
to find those that I deserved
to be with.

So thank you
for your part in my life
making me who I am today.
It’s been good to see you.
Good
bye.

When a band you never got to see
comes back together
with a new album
you couldn’t have imagined
and a direction you didn’t know they needed

When the sun bursts out
through the storm
and burns all the wet away

When you meet someone cool
and you let slip you think that someone’s cool
and then that someone smiles at you
and you think “reciprocal”

When you get the A on the report card
or the bonus at the job
or the job on the first interview
or you’re interviewed for the Times…

That’s how my day’s been going.
Yours?

My therapist says I shouldn’t date you.
My therapist says I shouldn’t date anyone
that I’m too troubled
too emotionally constipated
too much in my own head.
I wonder if my therapist just wants me
for herself.
My therapist says we need to talk about that next week.

My therapist has many many strong opinions
all based on the information I provide.
My therapist has limitations
as to what she can think about me.
I encourage her
to follow me around
for a deeper dive into my psyche.
My therapist regularly demurs.

My therapist and I
go in circles
on many subjects
and I think
it might help the process
if I regularly film myself
or invite people in
for sessions
so my therapist can know better,
learn more about me.

So?
You interested in coming in
for maybe fifty minutes?
It wouldn’t be a date
but rather
a way to get to know me better.
By the way
my name is Jon.

They were not solemn.
They were not scared.
They had seen this sort of thing
again and again
and again
and didn’t seem worried at all
about how it was proceeding.

Unconcerned,
they joked in our presence
and I felt quietly relieved.
If they treated it so cavalierly,
how serious could it be?

And maybe it wasn’t serious then.
Maybe it was all under control
and something happened later
that flipped the script.
Maybe their demeanor
provided an accurate view
as to the state of things.

Maybe they did everything
they could to alleviate anxiety
and improve the situation.
Or maybe they were just assholes

but
they remained calm
collected
and cool as cucumbers
while before them
my father became a vegetable.

It would be so much less scary
if Batman were here
unless he has a problem with jaywalking
or recreational drug use
or the act of occasionally frequenting prostitutes
or tax fraud.
Not that I do any of those things
but I could see
how Batman might get that impression
if he can look into the hearts of men
when he bursts out of the shadows
the way they always say he does.

I’m not a criminal
but I could look
remarkably like one
from the right angle.

Maybe then
it would be pretty scary
if Batman were here
but in a different way.

Still
right about now
I think I’d prefer a little more of Batman
and a little less
of these shadows.