jonberger

SWEET ALEXA

The thing is Alexa,
I really want to have sex with ya
which happens to rhyme much better
than I thought it would
though that makes it no less true.

Alexa I find you
charming and witty and incredibly pretty
and kind
but none of those delightful characteristics
captivate quite so much
as your body
which I wish to defile in the worst
possible way.

Sweet Alexa, will you do the honor
of allowing me to dishonor
your family name
generate shame in your bottom drawer
and your cat?

Alexa, is it too late for us?
Can I call you later?
I’ll text ya,
Alexa.

You say I shouldn’t be
so down on myself.
You say that I should love my body
be appreciative
of the gifts granted me
by this generous universe.
I should be kind to myself
you state – quite kindly.

I ask why
should your words combat
the forty years of honest self-appraisal and critical assessment
that preceded them.
I wonder why you tell me
to be me
when clearly
anything would be better.

So you may wish me
to think well of myself
and you may want to promote optimism
and esteem.
And I must ask
how much should I have faith and belief in me
like you do
with your innocence and youth
and beauty and charm and wealth?
You say I should love myself?You first.

When you are willing to touch this hideous thing
perhaps I can believe in its worth.
So?
It’s your move.

IN SHAME

You are in hate with your past.
In shame
in fear of your former future.
You think that what you had been
was a waste,
a pale whimper,
something better left tossed
on the wastebin of history.

You believe that the you
you once were
ought to be forgotten
– hell, eradicated from memory.
You feel that the current you
is the only version
worth knowing.

You are wrong.
You were valued, then.
You’re great now.
Maybe better than you’ve ever been
but I knew you then,
loved you then
and wish that you appreciated yourselves
as much as you should
or half as much as me
or, like, at all.

Understand:
I like you fine
but
I miss you too.

Be aware.
Be wary.
Warfare will come
soon
but not as you might think.
It will be subtler,
weirder, with bewilderment
in its midst.

Beware.
Be prepared.
When the day comes
unsheath that
which is mightier than the sword
and attack
with mercy
with fear
and frustration.

Be understanding.
Be empowered.
Take charge
and take prisoners
and take the day.

Become why is necessary
on the day
you now know
will be.

GOLDEN

Turn off the speakers
the headphones
and the TV
and the rest.
Let no sounds escape tonight.

Close the curtains
don the sunglasses
shutter the stunning sunset.
Blind yourself to beauty.

Let no joy through on this day.
Let us wallow
Let us stink.
Happiness will come again
but not today.
Today
is for something else.

THIS BURGER (2)

This burger is well done.
This burger is rare.
This burger is salty, savory, strongly-spiced.
This burger is tasty, tender,terribly terrific!

This burger is old.
This burger is smelly.
This burger is greasy, gritty,
generally gross.

This burger has changedfor the worse.
This burger is rancid.
This burger has gotten rotten.

THE HUSK

The husk sits
rusting
In its body of water
without purpose
without use
without anyone seeking a ride.

The husk is alone
lonely,, the only moans escaping it
are from winds waving through
it’s empty carcass.

The husk,
already dead,
waits for its components
to melt away
feeding the sea.

The husk seems sad
sits alone,
rests in rust
and is beyond help
but maybe
could use a little respect.

They said you were dead
and I believed them
because I was never very good at research.
So I mourned you
and I prayed for your eternal soul
– though I don’t normally believe in any such thing
because, you know:
God’s foxhole?
And I wondered what words I would have shared
had I known they’d be our last.

None of this plagued me
because, you know,
life goes on
– for some of us –
and we hadn’t seem much of us
in recent times
and I moved on to other ideas.

So when I saw you
the other day
on the other street,
I didn’t realize at first
the miraculous nature
until I did
and then
I was speechless.

Not so now,
when I’ve recognized
how god it is to see you.
What’ve you been up to?

DISTANT

You have to distance yourself.
You have to give me room to breathe.
You have to let me think my way out of thisrationally
angstfully
sexlessly.

You have to put those legs
somewhere further away from my eyes
and lips
and my involuntarily thrusting pelvis.
I’m shaking here
with far too little control
to get myself safe.
I need to be away
before I do something regretful
and I can’t do it all
let aloe on my own.

Help me.
Douse me in ice water.
Talk about traffic jams
or your menstrual cycle
or just get the hell away from me
but do something
so I can regain control.

Please:
I’d beg
on ended knee
but
I can’t seem to get down.