jonberger

Anything that doesn’t kill you
can make you stronger.
Anything that doesn’t make you strong
probably makes you ill.
Anything that can kill you
should no doubt result in
entering into cryogenic freeze.

The cold will kill
the ill within you
or slow it down
so the future can cure you
strengthen you
make you into a superman
since if now can’t do it
the future can.

Freeze the fears that keep you down
turn your mortality around
get into that frozen gown
and become what you’ll be eventually.

Join Disney and me
and inevitably we
shall be free of the now
and become only what we can foresee.
Nothing will kill us.
We shall be stronger.
We shall live forever
– if not longer.

There are things
of which we never speak
like that weekend in Bellmore
or how I’m scared of the Mets.
We keep the sounds of those subjects silent
if only to maintain equanimity
between us.

There are things
of which I never think
so afraid am I
of willing them
unwittingly
into reality.
I don’t want to produce
the world where you remember
the one that you left for me
and how much your life has changed.
I strive never to bring that up
even alone
in the sauna
or drunk at the club.

There are some acts
of which we never partake
so careful are we
around subjects of equality
and freedom
and sexual and racial
and ageist politics
– to even attempt them
would open up issues
I assume we both fear.

There are some things
that we never eat
because I am allergic.

Well
Frank Sinatra is dead
again
just eighteen years
after it happened
the last time.

In the Jewish faith
eighteen is chai
which symbolizes life
which is either an ironic
distance between deaths
or specifically appropriate.

Frank Sinatra wasn’t Jewish
though
and neither was Frank Sinatra
so the relevance of chai is probably
not particularly viable
just like Frank.

There are times
well after midnight
but well before dawn
when I wake
and wander past walls
wondering.

I think of you
of course
and about a high school sophomore
I knew
thirty years ago.
I think about dance steps
and aborted novels
and broken guitars
and tables
and paintbrushes never cleaned.

I think of family
and old friends
and never lovers
and some requited, too.
I think about pets
and I think about you.

I smile a little
but it is a sad smile
as I recall all that has been lost
mostly through failure
to strive.
I think about what I could have done
and I think that soon maybe
I could make a fresh start of it.

Invariably
I return to sleep
with vigor and verve
but forget the lessons of the night
upon awaking in the morning
to how things always are.

If I’d known you were suicidal
I’d have tried to stop you
or help you
or talk to you about it
or keep an eye on you
to make sure everything was all right.

If I’d known you were suicidal
I’d have called more
and smiled more
and offered to drive you more places
with less resistance.

If I’d known you were
– look. I’m sorry.
I know things reached a really ugly point
and I know I could have been more considerate
and compassionate
and I could have searched for the signals
that were obviously there.
I know now
much more.

But you could have told me.
You could have asked for help
or taken it
from all the sources that were available
even if not me.
This wasn’t my responsibility.
You don’t need to leave me so guilty.
At least now
you’ve become free
and while I disagree
with the steps you took
I’m glad at least
that you’re no longer suicidal.

You told me
that you were seeking a man
brave as lion
fast as cheetah
strong as moose
wise as owl
and then wondered if I was that man.

I was not
as you later learned.
I was instead
wise as moose
and flighty as owl.
I was in fact
fast as cheetah
but only in bed.

You were disappointed
of course
but only had yourself to blame
as truly
you should seen right away
that I was really
little more than lion.

She is used to being watched,
to being studied.
She has spent the years
since first bloom
knowing that men stare
are aware of her
yearning to pick her
up, to pluck her
exactly how they wish.

She is used to being
an object of desire
anticipating eyes across each room
to be guided towards her.
She feels those eyes wide
hungry for a taste
seeking to swallow her whole.
She feels their eyes growing in her presence
and other things.

She suspects she has spent countless nights
in countless men’s fantasies
and has grown,
if not used to it,
used to this world in which she lives
where she is some kind of prey
to some senseless hunters
who don’t even understand their prize.

She is tired of it
of course
and wishes sometimes
to just go under covers
and sleep
alone

forever.

I just want to go back to sleep.
I just want to unremember this day.
I just want to crawl into my own stomach
stuffed with so much crap for so very long
and feel the comfort of complete coverage.
I just want to be gone
to be away
to forget
and return to something
more peaceful
more perfect
more placental.

I just want to get over it
to not have to google happiness
to be reminded of what it is.
I want to figure shit out
but I’m not even sure what shit it is
that requires figuring.

I want out.
I want in
into something better.
I want to be between
the sheets.
I just want to sleep.

Andrea desires change.
Andrea is determined to find it.
Andrea decides her fate
day by day
hour by hour.
Second after existential instant
Andrea dreams of a better future.

Andrea, drunk,
dredges memories of a past
drenched with great pleasures.
Andrea remembers residing summers
in Scranton
at six and sixteen
and again
at seventeen.
Andrea dreams
of a return
to bygone days.

Andrea understands reality
is not this partial recall
nor a fantasy of prior periods of revelry.
She knows not everything
can be retrieved through memories
but still
Andrea appreciates the previous.
Andrea asks for the past.
Andrea dreams
of what used to be.

You know
when I asked you to meet me
at three
I kind of expected to see you at four
but now that it’s five thirty
I’m just really glad you made the time
to come out at all.

Thanks for making the time.
I’ll try not to take –
No, I guess it’s all right if we get drinks first.
Forgot your wallet?
What – look, answer me this:
What happened to you?
You were better than this
once.

I know he hurt you
and she stole from you
and they kicked you out of the house
but, look
there comes a time
when you heed a certain call,
and take responsibility for yourself.
That time came for you
about ninety months ago.

You used to be substantial.
You used to be significant.
You used to be so much less pointless.
You used to be so much better.
What happened?

Yeh,
I guess we can talk about it over dinner.
Yes, I’ll pay…