August makes me sad and glad
that I’ve enjoyed the break I’ve had
but I’ll be back to school all clad
in uniform just makes me mad.
It’s much like January First,
a Holiday that’s great, but worst
since the Second is well-versed
as a school-day soundly cursed!
If only that it could be known
that every single occasion
where Holidays are to be thrown,
there in a 35-day zone.
“Anyone can be an optimist!”
she says with joy in her eyes
and willingness in her heart,
an undying proselyte excited to take me with her
on the road to positivity.
I hear her words and see the spin.
“Anyone can be an optimist,” she’ll soon be wondering,
“why can’t you? What’s so wrong with you?”
I’ve wondered that all along.
“Yes, indeed.” I said, “Optimism ahoy.”
“I knew you’d get into the spirit of it!”
She took my hand and held it close.
“Absolutely,” I frowned slightly. “Only moreso.”
The universe sends her messages:
there is a sun to tell you I give you light and love.
I provide warmth and nutrients and life.
You will survive because of me.
The sun also says too much of me will kill you.
Use caution in my presence. Beware.
The universe shows you the night time,
where you see the moon, which explains
I add gravity to your life, so the waves pull in
and out. I may make you a little crazy on occasion.
Sorry about that. Avoid lycanthropes.
Don’t turn into one.
There are thunder and lightning who talk about
their chases in the rain and the distances between them.
There are horses that let you know to be careful where you step.
There is so much more to hear and to learn from the universe
and her proxies
when you open your ears and eyes and take notice.
Go ahead. Give it a shot.
The quickmud in Pelham Bay Park wasn’t that high
but it sucked up my shoes pretty quickly
and they didn’t get out of there alive.
I had to leave the park in my socks
and I swore to the shoes,
“I’ll come back for you, Sambas!”
I think they knew I was lying,
for they said nothing in response.
I never saw them again
and the next pair I bought never said a word to me
about their predecessors
or anything else,
for that matter.
It’s just as well.
I don’t know
if I was in a good place
to handle my grief
at the time
but now
the shoe’s on the other foot.
I came from a different world.
I belonged to a different place
where as a young boy
I walked along the beach
on a late summer season, alone
the sun beating on my sandy back
as I imagined the adventures of Luke Skywalker,
Space Ranger, where he flew the skies,
fighting space pirates and all the criminals he would find
as he fought the Star Wars along with his pals Chewbacca
and Darth Vader and Princess Leia and the Micronauts.
I remember that day like it was forty five years ago,
hazily, but I recall the beach,
and the direction, and the air,
and I knew all about Luke,
without having seen a minute of the franchise.
It was a different world then
and I loved it
and I do not know my way back.
The day words ate Manhattan was a Thursday
when time was on their side
and curtains were blue
and nobody was looking for a cheese grater
in that shape.
The day words ate Manhattan
was appropriately gray
because words weren’t doing anything
just being used randomly
out of the mouths of babes, bacteria, bears and bachelors
and could be spent easily
at any five and dime anywhere in the five boroughs
– and in Hoboken, to boot.
The day the words ate Manhattan
wasn’t unlike any other
since words swallow everything in their path all the time,
Thursdays included.
Words are voracious.
Words are omnivorous.
Words never sleep and words are always on the prowl for a good meal.
The day the words at Manhattan is this minute.
Not today.
This min
Woke up with headache bright as sin.
Can’t remember half the trouble that I’d gotten in.
Knew I drank about a third my weight;
had a thirst for something that I couldn’t satiate!
I forgot the name I took last night.
Living life too speedily has got me in a plight!
Now what to do?
Need to simply face a question bare as “Who are you?”
I see it’s time to claim an identity.
Finally come to the center of me!
Ask the question “Who am I?” and answer honestly.
Perhaps this way I’ll find serenity.
Am I a Bobby or an Ace?
Perchance a Peter who has left the human race?
Maybe I could go by Herman, Ralph, or Chase.
Or am I really for-offbase?
Should I try Raphael or Ron?
Possibly Patrick or Paul or Wally-John?
Could I pull off a name that sounds like a come-on?
Something like Fox or maybe Sean?
Claim an identity for me.
A name that makes me a living entity.
Asks the question “Who am I?” and answers honestly.
Perhaps this way I’ll find serenity.
I am a young boy, hormonal, but still innocent,
and my family has taken on an older exchange student.
She is new to the town, and I have to show her around.
I am the voice of experience in this world
but she does not know that I am shy
and unpopular
and not much of anything.
In her eyes, I can become who I want to be.
She is gorgeous beyond belief
and we have much to learn from one another.
I protect her from the dangers of my world
and she teaches me about a sexual world I have never known.
It is nice,
a semester I will never forget.
My fantasy is pedestrian
and I am ashamed.
“You can walk the coast and never get lost,” she said,
as we traipsed down the beach
and talked about random things
irrelevant things
with the sun at our backs
the wind at our sides
the world at our feet.
The day tasted sweet in a way I couldn’t recognize
as I couldn’t recognize the houses we saw
the children that played
the birds overhead.
Nothing was familiar
but we weren’t lost.
“We just need to turn around to return home,” she said.
Still we went forward.
The things around us were different still:
a new neighborhood
different trees
the sun was lower in the sky.
My legs got tired
but the communication was strong
and she was able to continue.
We continued.
The world remained at our feet
but the world was not one I knew.
I can’t say if she knew it, too.
There were buildings
where there had been houses.
Birds had been replaced by bears.
Ships could be seen on the coast now.
Despite her claims
I felt very lost.
Our walk went on.
We got to know each other very well.
We did not stop along the way.
I say I was lost
but the path before us was clear.
We went ever forward
with a clear destination:
ahead.
It became clear
somehow
this is what she had meant.
“We’ll never get lost
because we’ll never go back?” I asked.
“I didn’t think that was a surprise,” she smiled
and we continued on
into the sunrise.
These days I’m feeling kind of dainty.
Please don’t leave me under suzerainty
because I’m feeling sort of fragile.
I do not wish to be contained.
You know that feeling still remains.
Yeah, I’m feeling kind of fragile.
These days I’m seeing lots of strife.
It’s been a hectic sort of life
and I’m feeling pretty fragile
and I’m hoping I don’t break.
Do not do your part to make me.
Because you know I’m feeling fragile.
These days I’m dealing with bad things
and all the awful that such brings
which is making me feel fragile
and if you make it hard for me
I’ll have to break you urgently
so that I can stop feeling fragile.
I wish to cease this feeling fragile.
jonberger 