jonberger

Above her stilettos
upon one firm calf
beneath sparkly fishnets
rests a cobra-wrapped stilleto.
It’s a tattoo
but no less dangerous
as I watch the tattoo
and its owner
warily
knowing full well
this cold blooded creature
will strike
or slash
whenever she wishes
and despite my constant vigilance
through effortful
rock-hard stares
I am defenseless.

She has other tattoos:
broken hearts above the breast
and a broken skull
beside her shoulder.
I watch then all
carefully
waiting for the attack.

Shut it.
Shut it down.
Shut it off.
Just shut up.
Stop talking in your
incessant
increasingly annoying way.
Leave it alone.
Leave us be.
Turn your voice off
so we can get back to what’s important
which is not listening to you.

Do you get it?
Don’t you see?
It’s easier
for all of us
if you close down.
Close your mouth.
Quit it.
Cease speaking.
I’m tired of all of your noise pollution
and need you to
– and still you’re at it.
You won’t stop,
will you?

I mean,
why are you even here?
Why would you come out
to spout your shitty complaints
or utter such irrelevant opinions
when you know
that no one cares what you have to say?

Oh:
you didn’t know?
You hadn’t realized?
You just needed someone to set you straight
so that you could shut up shutting up?
So why are you still talking?
For god’s sake
when will you STOP?

It’s been too long
– and I should know.
Since we last met
my vision’s gone blurry:
everything that is not you
it appears
is simply not worth seeing.

Colors are muted
and my favorite songs
seem irrelevant
in your absence
like they are inadequate mono
without you to hear them.

It’s like
without you
there is less of the world
to absorb
or appreciate
or interact with.
I am diminished without you
and
that was just for a chance meeting.

I’m lost without you
I guess
and hope that you’ll soon find me.
Please
retrieve this missing package
before I lose all of my senses.

Please , do not misconstrue my meaning or intent.
This is not so much an apology
as it is an explanation
– though certainly,
I’m sad that you’ve gotten this upset.

I was drunk, see,
and frustrated,
and it was our third date
but I didn’t want to press the point
because that would be inappropriate.
And you were not forthcoming
so when we parted
I saw her at the bar
and she looked so much like you…

Perhaps
I should not have slept with your sister
but
she was so lovely
– so very like you –
only more pliant,
limber,
and drunk.

Was it the right thing to do?
No.
Was it understandable?
I think so
and would be remiss
if I didn’t mention
I would have been unavailable
for her
had you invited me up.

In any case,
I hope you’re willing
to schedule a make-up third date
and if not,
could perhaps hand the phone
to your little sis.