You knew.
You came
you saw;
you looked.
You knew!
You knew what was gonna happen.
You could see it as plain
as the beak
on the face
of the circling crow
while you were a vulture,
eagled-eyed spying
on something so clearly
obviously so.
I was so ignorant;
how could you know?
You were prepared
for eventualities I hadn’t imagined.
You predicted unerringly
what took me for such a shock.
You knew
and said nothing.
You knew
and kept mum.
You knew
and said so smugly
when it came to pass
– when I got handed my ass,
when I saw certain things couldn’t last
and that which was honest might not remain true.
You
knew.
I shouldn’t be so surprised,
I suppose.
I could have been as aware as others
like you
(who knew
but threw
no facts my way),
saying nothing,
secure in the knowledge
of what was coming.
I could have been like you,
but
I was blissfully ignorant.
Until now
when finally
we both share
the same awareness.
I would tear
but I have people to call.
I would choke
but I have things to do.
I would weep
but I have places to go.
I have responsibilities.
I have appointments to keep.
I have a myriad of items requiring my personal attention
There’s a schedule,
a series of dominoes that must fall
and I must watch them
else nothing else gets done.
I have no time to think
or process
or go over the events.
Things must get done
– I must get them.
All must happen as anticipated.
There is a foot
to put
In front of the other.
That is what I have to do.
That is all I have to do
until
I can think of something else.
Call your father.
Tell him you love him
or tell him you hate him
or explain how you diluted the bourbon
when you were fifteen
and he was drunk.
Give the guy a ring.
Drop by his place.
Ask for the money he took from your college fund
or how he met your mom.
Talk to him.
Continue the dialog
ugly or not
artless or not
important or not.
Just get a sense of who he is
while he is willing to take your calls
(he may not later).
Call your father
while you can.
Call him today
– if not sooner.
I could have gone to see you
but I had better things to do.
My priorities were set
and you were low on the list
so I failed to see you
before you left
which didn’t seem like a big deal
since, you know,
“low on the list”
but now
with the train past the station
I’m sort of regretting my choice
and I wish
just a little bit
that I’d rated you higher
and had gone to see you
and said goodbye.
I have been looking for content
for this list
for a few decades
since my grandmother broke camp for that state
and died.
She died in Florida
and I have not been back since.
I didn’t know her well
and don’t think that’ll change
since
you know
she’s gone.
But I know her now
only through
that ghost state
that did her in
and cannot think of any thing
to recommend it.
It’s the humidity.
It’s the gators.
It’s the South.
It’s the state that’s a dong.
It’s…
Look:
if you can give me anything for my list
If appreciate it.
You’re not even trying.
You’ve given up
so much
including the pretense of caring.
It’s absurd how little
you’re here.
It’s…
it’s sad
the disconnect and distance
you display.
It’s unfortunate
what you’ve become.
But it could change
any day.
You could become
more engaged,
become
more involved,
become
someone else.
It’s possible.
I hope it happens
and you develop
into one who cares
and makes an effort
and struggles and strives
to improve his lot.
I hope you change
but
I can’t be involved anymore
in making it happen.
I quit.
There are not enough monsters to fight.
No villainous curly mustaches
twirled in anticipation of evil deeds to come.
There is a dearth of maniacal laughter
and black cloaks dashing darkly
through the night.
There are not enough arch enemies
for all the heroes out there.
We have vanquished too many.
Too little of what had been labeled “bad”
Is still labeled “current.”
We have conquered so much
and left so few for future generations.
It’s for the good,
I guess.
This means the world is better
and we are closer to peace
or justice
or… something.
With villains diminished
maybe we don’t need heroes
or maybe
we need to name something new
to kill.
In the night
in the dark
in my sleep
I can see you.
I can hear you.
I feel
like I could reach out and touch you.
In the hours
when consciousness escapes
and I feel furthest from stability
I think of you
and think
you might be thinking of me
and it makes it somewhat better.
In my sleep
in the dark
of the night
I smile
and though you can’t see it
I hope you feel it, too.
I could swear they were singing a song
when they stomped down the street
two feet marching behind two.
It sounded robust
their approach
as they came for me.
It sounded jovial.
They were chanting something
it seemed
as they approached my residence
my door
my knocker and my peephole.
They gave warning with their words
whatever they were
in advance of their arrival.
The song they sang
meant something
I’m sure of it.
They were explaining something important
before they got to me
with a martial knock
and exuberant shout.
The song was informative
in some way
I cannot understand
and now
I think it’s too late.
jonberger 