jonberger

It looks like Roosevelt Island
is going down
sinking like a second Atlantis
becoming far greater
in memory
than it could ever hope to be
– if Islands could ever think.

Manhattan is divided
into tribes
cliques
that war over imagined differences
– same as it ever was.

Brooklyn is burning
and the Bronx is long gone.
The rich abandoned this town ages ago
finding cooler places
to while away their lives.

The fogs
the riots
the food lines
and rats
all push the city
away from what it was
and into what it is
– and it different now
than the city I lived as a boy.
It is smaller
with more pitfalls and snakes
but I wish
I could go back
one last time
for Billy at the Garden.

I want to hold you.
I want to protect you.
I want to caress you,
swearing my eternal presence before you.
I want to say
that nothing will harm you again
but I know that’s probably not true.

I could tell
the first time that I saw you
that you are wise enough
to see the truth
no matter how I present it.

I can’t project you.
You know that.
You know that the world
this cruel and horrid world
will make liars of us all
before letting me defend you
from all attackers.

I can’t stand in front of you
else you become weakened
and less the woman we both love
so I must leave you to your battles
which you’ll win, I am certain,
no matter what you face.

Still
if between the wars you face
I could stand beside you…
I would like that very much.

We ride the night.
The streets are ours
and we pound them
alone
as we experience all
the darkness has to offer.
When the hours go from large
to small,
we own them.
We are masters of the sleeping time
denying Morpheus his domain.

There are others on these darkened streets
but we ignore them
and they ignore us
as we each go off
on unique missions
of chaos and dissent,
fission,
division.

We explode out into the world
waking none
despite our energy.
It is quiet out there
and
mighty as we feel
we few are not enough
to rouse the sleeping dragon of exhaustion
that others know.
It’s just as well.
There is room for more of us in the black
– but not too many.

We dine on the scraps the night-time provides.
We ride through the hours that others don’t see.
We drink of wine-dark adventures
and race the stars to bed
We usually lose
but it is the contest
that’s most important
not the victory.

We live.
We thrive.
We adventure.
We’ll sleep another time.

They say you can’t judge a book
solely by its jacket.
I’ve heard it
and I’ve believed it
and I think you should, too.
This is not just about prejudice
and giving people a fair shake.
This is about faith
and hope in the future
and a chance for a better day.

With all this in mind,
heed my words:
My penis is bigger than this
really.
What you’re seeing
– what you’re feeling
it may not seem like much
but rest assured
this is just a strange day.
Under normal circumstances
I am much more impressive than this.
Trust me.

If things were regular
I would be a man of monstrous proportions
and this paltry thing you see before you
would barely be visible
compared to its dimensions.

What?
Oh, yes.
Yeah, I’m excited.
You’re doing great work.
I’m ready to go.
This particular flag is fully raised today
it’s just
usually
there are more stripes.

I think it might have something to do
with what inmate yesterday
or the new brand of cologne I’ve worn.
It’s simply a matter
of why you see
not being
what you get
in the long run.

And normally
I would like to add
It is a longer run than this.
I swear
I’ll get you next time
– and with more materiel.

I would have bought you flowers
if I knew where to get flowers
or what kind of flowers to get
or how much flowers cost
or where to get money.

I would have played you a song
if I knew how to write one
or play an instrument
or sing
or keep rhythm
or, I don’t know,
rhyme.

I would lasso you the moon
or give your kid brother a silver spoon
or recite select passages from Frank Herbert’s Dune
I’d do it immediately
– soon
if I had the means
the mode
or the inclination.

I guess I just care too much.

We drive in silence now
and have
for some time.
I might offer some directions
you may occasionally cough lightly
but otherwise
naught
but our breathing
our thoughts
occupy the air between us.

This transition was not quick
not obvious.
I don’t know when you noticed it
but it took me by surprise
to realize how we have mastered privacy
in this hurtling tube.

You used to sing to me
or tell me stories
about your day
or days long ago.
You used to be inspired
to share
and I used to act interested
because I was.
There might have been some quiet times
occasionally
but they were rare
or pregnant with anticipation
of the next sentence
or other ejaculations.
The space between us
has never been so extreme.

Maybe this is maturity.
Maybe this is what happens
when we know each other’s best stories.
Possibly this is expected
anticipated
understood.
I don’t know who to ask.

I’d talk to you about it
but
it is so hard
to break the silence.

Kiss the Mike.
Start the party.
Join the fun.
Enter into this new situation.
Grab life by the balls
and kiss the Mike.

Kiss the Mike
and pray for no future.
Kiss the Mike
and drink your full.
Kiss the Mike
and take your pleasures
where you can find them.
Find them everywhere.
Kiss the Mike.

Kiss the Mike.
I’m Mike.

So you like big tits
my small-titted girlfriend asks with a smile
that is not a smile
that hides the least amount of warmth
I have ever felt.

I don’t know what you’re talking about
I say
while thinking
get out of my brain, witch!
Her eyebrow raiseS.
I saw you looking at her,
she nods at the
hot bod trotting past.
Her? I didn’t even notice her
I explain
and besides
why would I care about
that peroxide and saline concoction passing by
with you by my side?

Her smile is revised
and the chill changes
incrementally.
You’re getting there
she tells me
putting a hand carefully on mine
but don’t even think of turning
away from me
until I’m done with this latte.
I start
but she stops me.
I know what you’re thinking
she reminds me
and, she points at the next girl strolling our way
who you’re thinking about.

Hey! I say.
If you can take a man’s life
for the thoughts in his head –
Stop quoting Springsteen
she commands
and
I comply.

You are probably asleep right now
which is the best time to talk to you
to tell you important things
– things too important for me to say
when you can hear them.

You are probably dreaming of somebody else
somebody who can provide you all the things
you say are not important
all the things that would provide you the support
the security
you so richly deserve.

You are probably rising and falling
to the imagined rhythms of another
an other individual far better suited
to give you
everything I am unable to.
You are probably quite satisfied
snoring
thinking of him
or her
and remembering a fictional life
that will collapse as quickly
as everything about us will
when you learn about my horrifying behavior
and terrible choices.

You are probably better off learning
what I keep form you
in these ridiculously late hours
when I tell you everything you need to know
but I am woefully unable to share.

You can make me think all you want
but it’s not going to go anywhere.
You will not
try as you might
make me into a better person.
I will be this thing
this creature before you
for many years to come
and you may think
that you can convince me
coerce me
into becoming something else
something healthier
wiser
better
but I think
after years of experience
within my own mottled skin
that I know how this will turn out.

I’ll give you a hint:
it won’t go well.
I will not improve
or transform
into some golden swan
after all this time
as a squawking duckling.
I will remain
the beast you first met:
the one you decided to talk to.

I will not change
into what you say you want
because I have seen
all too often
that what you believe is for you
is not always so.