SUCH GREAT HIATT
Your father was a great man
whose enemies feared him
vassals loved him
and women resented what he made them want to do.
He was powerful
and just
and fairly even-handed
in his vengeance.
The common folk spoke well of him
and he was polite to them
if somewhat distant.
Perhaps that is what it was like
growing up
around the house.
I wouldn’t know about that.
Your father was a fine man
important in his way
though, it seems,
no good as a dad.
YOU TOO
She was not impressed by me
no matter the lies I told.
You may not know this about me
I said,
but I was in this band,
You Two.
You were in U2?
She asked,
eye ra’aised
No, ha ha. We got that a lot.
No:
Y O U space T W O.
A short word that collects a lot of Scrabble points.
We played east village dives
a lot more
than they wanted us to.
I’m sure you’re not surprised,
she said
looking around the bar
that I’d never heard of you.
Of course, of course.
Maybe you read my novel?
No, she said.
You don’t know the name yet.
I don’t read fiction,
she replied.
It was very good, I said softly.
She wasn’t into it
(IT being ME)
or anything I had to offer
which I guess serves her right.
She’ll never know
The prize she might have received
had she only ignored what I said
and saw beneath,
what I was,
THAT prize
would have been great
Her loss.
THE LONG-WINDED ROAD
This –
This is…
This is not your road
not yours alone.
Not yours by majority.
This road…
This goddamned road before us
is for all of us
and you
as you edge me to the side;
as you honk furiously
from your electroplated,
autotuned, and vicious horn,
you do nothing to change this.
I…
I am…
I am belonging here.
I have a right to the road
and I’m taking up less space
than you
so maybe
I’m doing something better
and you should be less of an ass.
I’m going as fast as I can
and I’m not endangering anybody,
dick.
You –
You are…
You are a selfish prick
who believes the world revolves
around you
and your fucking SUV.
And maybe it’s hefty enough
for its own gravimetric force
but that doesn’t make this road
your private property.
The road
belongs to both of us
– all of us –
and maybe,
until you learn to share
you should keep off it.
WHAT YOU SAW
(after Lach)
To the girl who left right after her set
and right before mine:
You missed it, baby.
You missed the real deal.
The kind of talent that was to go on was phenomenal,
fantasmagorical,
first-rate.
There were artists
the likes of which you might have imagined
but never seen
or might even have seen
but based on your speed of exit,
certainly never HEARD.
There’s the fantastic Mr. Fix,
who makes about as much sense
as the Mad Hatter
in a town called Alice.
You enter a new reality in his presence,
one you’d never willingly visit on your own.
Or the Divine Ms. N.
Ever experienced her?
I’m not surprised.
She comes around like Haley’s;
blue moons fly more frequently.
Her sound is the prize bird watchers seek
a song so rare
as to be priceless.
You missed Lady Kay.
You missed Dardenelle Jones.
You missed Ricardo Snee
and Gina Gee.
All have something to recommend them
if only the rhyming names.
And, of course, you miszed Caine Wok,
an artist so huge,
he needs three personalities to rein him in
of which I am one.
He closed it all out
– or I did,
it’s hard to say
– not that you can weigh in:
You were long gone.
I hope your bed is cozy
and your dinner was hot
– but I really don’t.
I can’t care that much
because I’m still out,
enjoying the evening,
rocking the night
and you could be, too,
but I don’t know
since you’re gone
and you missed it.
You missed it all.
IN FLIGHT
Approaching clouds
through the air
sailing past
worry and fear
coasting faster than feet can fly
speeding towards your destination
hurtling forward,
free
is a beautiful thing.
To be in flight
beyond question
is extraordinary
and almost worth
landing fifteen feet away
from where your scooter
hit brick.
It is a thing
almost worth
repeating
but
restrain yourself.
CAP’N SPAULDING
It’s a travesty, he said
that you’re not better treated.
Your art is astonishing
and you are an icon.
Your performance was stellar
he said
and the disrespect you experienced,
well, he said, it makes me sad.
A name like yours
with talents so pronounced
should be heralded across the cosmos.,
he said, with an epic hand sweep,
and your face –
I’m not going to sleep with you,
she said.
Excuse me, he replied,
I really must be going.
ERRONEOUS OPPORTUNITIES
I would poke out my eyes to look at you
tear off my lips for a kiss
I would pour out my mind
for a simple chance to dance
or
have i done that already?
Maybe I have.
I do this all the time.
I offer too much
and get little in return.
is this my fault?
Is this my fate?
Will all my dates end
in this way:
erroneously?
I doubt it
but what do I know
with my brains
poured down the drain
in the first verse?
MY BROTHER
My brother, the husband
My brother, the businessman
My brother, the homeowner
My brother, the musician
My brother, the younger.
My brother, the bright one
My brother, the responsible one
My brother, the first in his class
My brother, the first in college
My brother, the first out of college
– with a degree.
My brother, the better nephew
My brother, the better athlete
My brother, the better salesman
My brother, the better boy
My brother, the better son
casting me in shadow,
just got his first speeding ticket
and doesn’t know why
or how to take it.
Life has few pleasures;
I take what I can get.
AN EMBARRASSMENT
What we did the other night
after hours
in absence of clothes
may have been a mistake.
It may be the kind of thing
you no longer do
so quickly
so freely.
It may be the kind of thing
you don’t do at all.
It might have been some drugs
or the wine
or something with your family
or an ex-boyfriend or –
I don’t know.
You may have a myriad of excuses
to explain our error
if error it was.
It might have been intentional
but regretted.
It might have been some accident
where tripping lips
and interlocking parts
were involved
It might have all been
an embarrassment.
What we did
what we became
may have been wrong.
Our evening may have been a mistake
but I hope not.
FROM A DISTANCE
You’re the kind of girl
in high school
I would have killed to sit next to
only to find
spying occasional glances
at your gorgeous profile
how I had nothing to say
no way to imagine dialog with your kind.
You could have been a sharp
sparkling wit
with an interest in the same things I liked
which were comics and porn
and still
my ability to engage
would have been curtailed
and I’d have cursed our proximity
and wished for the safe distance
from which to review you.
You’re the kind of girl
that makes me too nervous
to complete ideas
or
something else, maybe
(it’s hard to say).
I’m uncomfortable
in your presence
and wish I had the bird’s eye purview
so I could experience you
but you could be free of me.
jonberger 