jonberger

We raced the empty industrial streets
the quiet, closed, cloistered streets
of an abandoned neighborhood.

They moved faster than my walking pace
so I biked with them
and they had to keep pace with my speed. 

This way, I could poop them out
and they had a great time.
I just had to be a little faster than them
to maintain their interest
a carrot on a stick for these excitable fellas
and they’d follow me across this ridiculous
secluded landscape. 

Sometimes, one might take interest in a dirty puddle
but a quick call of “Heidegger!” or “Pizza!” 
would be enough to get them on the move again.

We were not entirely alone
in this weekend wonderland. 
Some trucks had deliveries
and I did not notice one had come between me and my charges
but I did hear the squeal when Pizza lay beside the road 
and the truck sped past. 

Pizza quickly got up. 
I couldn’t tell if she had actually been hit
or just scared.
Since she seemed to shrug it off, 
I bet on scared, but watched her carefully
as we slowed our roll for the rest of our travels that day.

Nothing really seemed to hamper 
the opportunities of the weekends in the wild, though. 
They seemed up for it,
but what did they know?

I have longed to touch you for so long
but you sneer that I’d break you
were I to try;
my lumbering advance would snap you
before I could near any amorous intent.

Clearly, you don’t know how quickly
I can arrive at amorous intent
but I wouldn’t want to break you.
That’s the furthest from my mind.
I want to cherish you
and the dread
the disgust
the disparagement you hold for me
is enough to keep me away
indefinitely.

I wouldn’t want to harm you.
If helping you is leaving you be
then that is absolutely what I’ll do.
Farewell
to you.

The guard at the Stephen A. Schwarzman Library Building
didn’t want me sitting on the floor.
He didn’t want me plugging in my computer.
In fact, I couldn’t work on my computer
in the hallway.
I had to go upstairs to a different room
to use my computer
and not use it where I was,
though I was waiting for a meeting to start
precisely where I was.
When I asked the guard why
he was proscribing my behaviors
he didn’t seem to understand the question.

“Is there a reason,” I clarified, “Why I shouldn’t be on the floor?
Or opening a computer? Or plugging it in?”
“Because…” he said haltingly, “It just isn’t done.”
“Because you won’t let it,” I helped him. “Do you know why?”
I knew I was risking expulsion from the library,
but I somehow doubted it would come to that
– and I was right. The guard didn’t have the proactive spirit
to do anything to me.

He didn’t have any answer for my question, though, either.

These streets are not what they were,
as far as I can remember.
The times they been a’changin’.
The bookstore district has become the derelicts district,
and I can’t find a hoagie to save my life.
All that’s left are Subway shops.

I do not like this, Sam-I-Am.

I don’t know why the world couldn’t stay
exactly the way I left it
when I last cared about these streets
twenty two years ago.
Wouldn’t everything be better
if it were etched in amber?

This is rhetorical, of course.
The answer is an obvious “Yes!”

You were a lovely bride.
I think back to that day
and the hope we had then
and before
and how it transformed
not so slowly
into this final state.

We will not see each other after today,
I suspect,
as it is unlikely
that both of us will leave here
with the capacity for further communication.

I am sorry about this
for I still think of a version of you fondly.
I would wish the bride well
should I see her again.

Now, though,
let us get to this last combat between us:
Sign here.

I got a cap that fits me
it’s the best thing ever, man!
No longer do my ears stick out
like god’s most foolish plan.
I can wear this hat since yesterday
and will tomorrow, too!
I love this cap that fits me.
I think it’s big on you.

My head, you see, is extra-sized,
like maybe two of yours.
It’s been my burden for a while.
Until this cap, of course.
Now, I can hide it at will,
and have, and will again.
I’ve got a cap that fits me
and I love it so, my friend!

I wanted to write something about toast
but I’ve got nothing to say about toast.
Maybe I could talk about making a toast.

I did that once at a wedding.
It was pretty traumatic.
I don’t think I want to talk about making a toast.

I could talk about making toast.
That seems an easier topic to broach.
My toaster-oven tends to overheat
and makes things toastier
than necessary.
I get burnt bread more than I’d like,
which is never.

This topic seems to have run its course.

I could discuss eating toast,
which really should have been the first place
I’d have thought of going.
Damn it, brain!
Why do you make it so hard on yourself?

When my mummy, no dummy
would make me cinnamon toast,
with the butter and the bread
and the cinnamon and the sugar
and the heat and the love,
it worked out better than anything I could do.
She’s the cook in the family.

I like toast.

Yeah, I think I got it.

Yesterday was April Fools,
a fact I did not pay attention to
while this cute girl was all on top of me.
It is something I only thought of
after the clock struck midnight
and I realized that the fool was I.

Me.
The fool was me.

It was a very witty jape
I suppose
had I been of a mind for such things.
I was just not considering jokes
yesterday
as much as I should.

We come together and we say how great he was
and we say how there is one less of us now
and we say that our number is dwindling
and how we only meet on these occasions
and not on more pleasant days
but we are the ones who choose the occasions
on which to meet
and we can make the time to change the frequency
and the cause.

We have that power
if we have the will.

Now
is the time
to have that will.

Where are you tonight? Have you made it back home?
Are you still on the road, out producing that tome?
Do you still have to write, letting all the words flow?
Tell me: when will you stay? Why must you always go?

Does the Beat call you still, taking you far away,
coercing you to leave? Causing you to now stray?
Will you never stay mine? Will you always depart,
leave for areas unknown, with a part of my heart?

Is our status always gonna be unravelling
with you constantly in the world, traveling?
Don’t you find it the least bit challenging,
to be constantly in the world, traveling?

Can’t you ever come out? See the world and its worth?
All the measures of pleasures here on Goddess’ Earth!
You’ve a window of view; just open and peer.
Take a fresh breath and leave the house and walk on the sphere!

We could wander forever on this planet of ours.
I don’t need to leave you to go write my memoirs.
Come out and join me; think how happy we’d be!
We’d be out forever in this world migrationally!

I know that you’ve been spending time wondering
if I’m ever gonna stop my wandering.
Really, those years you’ve been squandering
when we could have been out wandering.
We could have been out there wandering.
We could have been out there wandering.