jonberger

It’s important that you understand
that
no matter how much
I love you
– which is quite a lot
like, two loads, actually –
what I love most about you
is your long, lovely
lustrous hair.

Your hair is what I remember
in our times apart.
Your hair is what I cling to
in the middle of a fight
and try as I might
I don’t believe
I could love you half as much
without that hair.

And I know it’s shallow
and I know what’s coming.
I know that you can’t always keep what you want
and that time changes
even the most basic things about someone.
I understand that in seven years
every particle in each of our bodies
will have been updated
upgraded, irretrievably altered.
I know all that.

And I know you have a decision
coming up
regarding chemotherapy.
But, as you decide what to do
– which is entirely your choice,
of course –
keep in mind:
I can’t swear I’ll care
if you lose that there hair.

You cannot tell me what I can steal
and what I can’t
and possibly expect to enforce it.
The very nature of crime
is that of defying rules
that others put down.
If you outlaw theft
then only thieves
will be outlaws,
y’know what I mean?

You cannot stop me
from doing what I want
for I will
and you have so far
been unconvincing
in seeking to get me to cease.

I’m a taker.
I’m a stealer,
I’m a midnight concealer
of other’s property
which is very much appreciated
– like this crust of bread
with which I’ll feed my family
before going out for dessert.

And you
trying to get me to be anything other
than what is native to my nature
is unjust and inappropriate
and wrong.
You want to redefine me
but I defy that quest.
I am what I have always been
and you will not take that from me.

So you’ve been thefted.
you’ve been robbed.
You’ve been thieveried.
Like that word?
I just came up with it.
No dictionary can hold me.
Wanna use it?
Can’t.
It’s mine!

You stand before shutters
longer than necessary to realize
you can’t get in.
The door unavailable,
you will not enter the laundromat
today.

You are slow
in recognizing the facts
as you were slow in arriving,
dragging that bag
blocks and blocks
to this impenetrable location
where your wash will not be done.

You could have arrived earlier.
You could have brought a smaller package.
You could have been careful
to avoid being soiled
spoiled, stained.
You could have attained
a certain purity previously,
making this rush trip to the shop
unnecessary.
You didn’t.
You failed to do anything of the kind.
You became mired in your filth.
You became a creature of dirt,
flirting with chaos
with muck
with a playful grungy style.

And now look at you:
locked away from salvation
so close,
so lost,
when you so desperately wanted
to get clean.

The girl

clacking down the street
in her loud heels
and promiscuous T-shirt
could be the girl for you.

She has the potential to be everything you’re looking for
everything you’re dreaming of
everything you’ve ever needed
but she cannot fulfill anything for you
unless
you speak to her
and
you won’t
because
you are a coward.

The sooner you admit that,
the sooner you will be able
to begin your new life
and ignore
the wealth of beauties clacking down the street
that might have been waiting
for a better you.

When you deliver the waitress to my bed
make her dress for the occasion
in jewels and stilettos
and the finest gingham apron my riches can buy.

When you deliver the waitress to my bed
ensure that she understands
just what is at stake:
the risk of my displeasure,
the clear and present nature
of how the customer is always right,
and the five star Michelin rating in the offing.

When you deliver the waitress to my bed
pay for the meal
and order yourself a dessert, too.
I’ll handle the tip.

When you deliver the waitress to my bed
do it in all haste
for
that is precisely how I will act
on said delivery upon its arrival.

When the DJs make the dance remix
of our love
with that pulsing rhythm track
bursting out the gate,
full of explosions
and thumping bass,
pumped-up horn blasts
and those tickly tight keys teasing all through,
will it be an instrumental?
Will our voices be removed from the mix
completely?
Yes, I think so.
The lyrics will reside only
on the original singer-songwriter demo
where the details of who wronged who
will be excruciatingly outlined
in Dylanesque verse
after Reedy verse
and Young and Hart verse.

When the DJs make the dance remix
of our love
and reach the bridge
in slow, plodding tones,
its repetition,
its bone-numbingly krautrock chills
and mesmerizing inanity,
will they try to speed it up
making it less representative of the reality,
but far more palatable?
Will they increase the harmonies
adding Melody, Allegra, and Aria
– like I tried to?
No,
best leave those other ladies out
of our love song.
Though maybe on the R&B track…

When the DJs make the dance remix
of our love
will it be a big hit?
Will it crack the charts
as it cracked our lives?
Will others be able to learn
from our moves
and move to the beat?
Or will they be beaten down
like we were
so that dance, music,
love
were all items
we had lost the taste for for?
I have no answer to that.
We’ll have to wait and see

but
when the DJs make the dance remix
of our love
I do hope that it’s super funky
because after our love died
it didn’t take long at all
for it to begin to stink.

You look like a rock star’s girlfriend:
porcelain
slutty
gorgeous.

You look like the sort of creature
that adorns the arms
of the very best
that popular culture has available
from whom money and creativity flow
like lava from an angry Mediterranean mount.
You seem like the sort
that is used to the very best.

You strike me as a stunner,
a valuable asset
a piece of art herself
that is used to getting what she asks for
because she knows just how to ask
and is very good at receiving.
You are something special.
You are desired.
You are attained.
You are a prize that only the greatest may achieve.

You appear to me
like a rock star’s girlfriend,
when you should be so much more.

All right, she said,
you can fuck me
but you better fuck me well.
It better be worth it
she said
and then continued.
If it’s not
there will be no repeat performance.
You can fuck me now, she said,
but satisfaction better be fucking guaranteed.

You can pit your skills against mine
and if your are not found wanting
as so many have before
that still does not mean
that this will work out
that we will be compatible
that you will please me
or there will be any form of repetition.

We can do this, she said,
we can try this thing you so loudly suggested.
You can give it your best shot
if you’re up to it
and if I like it
it might be the start of something special.
And if it’s not
we will never speak of it
or each other again.

I am, I said,
not so sure
that I’m up for this.

Don’t be that guy, she said.
The coward’s way is not the only way
doesn’t have to be your way.
You asked.
You offered.
This is your chance.
Grab for the ring
Take it
– if you can.

Uh, I said
then followed with um
and a shaking that refused to stop.
Pussy, she sighed,
and clicked and clattered off
never to be seen again.
Pussy, she called me?
She was right.

You were supposed to take on the world.
You were supposed to become the best
and the redefine what “best” even meant
by becoming better than that.
You were gonna build a culture
date a princess
rape a frog
and ten it into another princess
then watch the fight it out
in an old school diamond wrestling contest
where the gels wrestle in a big tub of diamonds
which sounds more dangerous than sexy
– but since the Ladies would be into it,
it would be fine.

You were gonna get popular.
You were gonna be important.
You were gonna be what others wants to be
with a house
and a car
and a job
and a button down shirt
and unstained pants.
What happened?
You were supposed to be something else
but you haven’t become anything at all.

Please
take it easy.
Take a breath.
Take a moment
and think about what you’re doing
how you’re behaving
and how to act.

Take in the experiences around you
let then soak
let them sink in
let the day become one with you
and will yourself into serenity.

You’ve been acting manic
for a little too long
gone into manic panics too many times
with too little cause.
Focus.
Breathe.
Stop revving
and roll with it
a little
as you find inner peace
as we repossess your home.