jonberger

And there will come a day when youth will pass away
and the old will inherit the earth and their interests will dominate
and at that time they will look forth at the world
as if it were a fire sale and everything must go go go!
Nothing need remain. Just get it all out on the floor,
out the door, through the store, just pour pour pour!

These deals are serious, man! It’s a real fire sale, here!
At the end of this generation, anything that remains
is just gonna go to waste, so get a taste in haste like it’s a race!
Everything’s fast-paced, today! Go go go go to your local sto’ to clean it out!

This message has been brought to you by everything you hold dear.

It was a strange young affair I had
one country summer
with a backhoe.
It was unconventional,
but I felt the earth move under my feet.

I thought I was in love
but there are some divides
that are too great to cross.
She tried to bridge the distance
by actually excavating for us,
but it wasn’t enough.

All our friends were supportive
but we went our separate ways.

I hope she’s doing well.
I hear her line’s been retired now.
I’m not… entirely sure what that means
and I’m kind of afraid to ask.

Fat Andy came by with a different sort of request.
He had a new record
and he wanted a review.
I hadn’t done that kind of thing in a while
but I figured it would be no problem.
I could dash something off
to one of the places I used to contribute to back in the days.

I listened to the album.
Sounded good.
Maybe better than the old stuff
when Fat Andy was gigging regularly.
I could put some words together about this,
like how the struggling artist is keeping his head above water
and this time he might really make it.

I took a glance at the last piece I wrote about Fat Andy,
like ten years ago:
struggling artist is keeping his head above water.
This time he might really make it.

I started thinking about the publications
I contributed to.
Turns out, I was the publisher of most of them.
There was one left,
but that was the one where I wrote the article
I just glanced at.

I haven’t written music criticism in five years.
I hadn’t written much of anything in two.
I couldn’t think of another direction to take.
I procrastinated.
I was falling down on the job.

Fat Andy asked what was up.
Repeatedly.

“I’m just working on an angle,” I said,
but I was just looking for an angle to get out of it.
A few months later, I did.

“I’m sorry, Fat,” I said,
“I’m just not up for it. I can’t find my way in.”
He said it was all right, but I don’t think Fat Andy
will ever really forgive me for failing to do his bidding.

With an absence of breath,
I asked “Haven’t you a heart?”
She looked me carefully in the eye.
“I am not responsible for where he tosses his affection.
I have not led him on in any way,
given him any sense that I am interested.
If he think otherwise, he is a fool.”
She shifted, and stared even deeper.
“He may be interested.
He may love me.
He has never said so.
Until he does, it is not my concern.
Perhaps not even then.
How does that sit with you, Stanley?”

My name isn’t Stanley. Did she not know my name?
I don’t usually straddle people whom I don’t know.
Of course, I never straddle people named Stanley,
so there are distinct differences between us.
“That sits fine,” I said, kissing her well into the night.
And for some time after.

Mandy, I’ve been thinking
about your sister’s tits.
Are they gone yet?
Has she –
Has he –
Has they –
Has Jace gone all the way?

We haven’t talked since she –
since Jace explained what was going on
and I haven’t been the best in keeping in touch.

Can you let Jace know that I haven’t forgotten them?
I’d love to see them
if they want?
Let Jace let me know
when we can hang loose.

She’s like a metaphor
I had never heard before
Though really,
she’s a simile.

You were so beautiful, Karina,
so kind and so smart.
I don’t know what I did
to deserve you
but I learned pretty quickly
how I did not.
Christ, the way I acted…
it’s a wonder we lasted as long as we did.

I should have gone to see you that weekend,
I know that now.
Things would have ended very differently
or very possibly
not at all.

Thank you for what you gave me
however unintentionally.
It is something I continue to treasure.
The pains remind me
that someone once cared.

I’m sorry.
I thought I was doing the right thing
but I didn’t have all the information
so when I pushed your son
off the platform
it was, apparently, in error.

I swear, at the time,
I thought it was rude of him
to be riding his hover board
in the subway
and didn’t see
he was disambulatory without it.

I was acting in the name of justice
and I promise
if he ever walks again
I’ll buy him a fresh pair of sandals.

Bring the shame.

When I asked you to come out
to the open mic
I thought I’d be able to impress you
with my prowess before an audience.

Little did I know
hat before you
my skills would escape me,
my talents dissipate.
I did not realize you would already have such a power over me
and I would become such a puddle in your presence.

This then is what approximates love now.
This distant longing.
These obsessive stares.
The way I hope and pray
for a chance to someday
express and iota of my shame for you
that is what is left
of passion
and feeling.
That is what this form will allow.
It is paltry indeed.

I could tell you so many things
that are important to me about us
– about a potential us –
but I’m not really sure where to begin.

Just these words that I scribble
and hope someday
to hide in your coat
or something equally strange.

Hey Brian,
do you remember when you were all about the love songs
back when the sweetness overcame you
and you had hope and faith
and thought love would save us all?

Do you remember when you wrote the flower songs, Brian?
Do you remember when you were sincere?

Those were funny days, Bri.
I miss them.
I wonder what you’re up to, you sarcastic bastard,
and how you are.