jonberger

There are things I used to do
earlier in life
that seemed to have passed me by.
I no longer play with the action figures
I built out of wire and tape.
I can’t seem to find them around anymore.

I don’t play audio cassettes or vinyl these days.
My ears never recognized the “warmth” of LPs anyway.
Science fiction doesn’t seem to appeal to me
the way it used to.
I don’t ignore it, but it doesn’t
scratch the itch it once did.
Biking has fallen by the wayside.
I haven’t done it in years.

And you. I can’t explain it
but I haven’t been around you in so long.
I don’t know why the appeal has lapsed
and I cannot bring it back.
Some things simply change
over time.

Perhaps I will see you again.
I would like to think so
when I need some comfort
and warmth
at the right time
with the right memories.

I hope to come to you again.
Until then!

This is a balancing poem
to adjust your expectations
after the last one
which may have been
too great with exaltation
or two unimpressive
(for who knows how this will be placed
in its folio?).

Let these words settle you
calm your weary soul
and prepare you to tackle the next poem
with fresh eyes and spirit,
May you be excited for what is to come
and enjoy
on its own terms
not in relation to what has come before.

Forget what has come before.
Take on the new.
It is waiting for you.
Go on now,
turn the page.

Social media was talking about something
but nobody could source it
so I didn’t accept the news.
I don’t need to follow the source through,
I just need to know that it’s there.

So many of my friends were just accepting the news as fact
and I was saying, “Fools!
“Wait until you get verification
or at least an origin point for this information
that seems to come from a reliable place.”

And guess what happened?
My roommate came to me
with a reliable source of information
which probably everyone else had seen
before me so I was behind the times
in not believing the news
that everyone else just easily accepted.

So anyway,
I’m sorry for your loss.

The parking around here has gotten better
ever since the apocalypse.
Granted, there are still some husks
of abandoned vehicles around,
but more and more of them
have been crushed and burnt

by tanks and riots lately
so spaces have been opening up!

I was never one for dating through apps
so now that the towers are down
I can just ask people out directly.
Of course, since gender relations
seem to be at a particular low
with the roaming rape parties out there,
this might not be the best time

to establish heterosexual bonds.

I’ve been loving the opportunity to read
since most middle management has been cancelled
with the fall of civilization.
I just wish there was more electricity
so I could read after hours.

Still, there’s a lot of positive changes we’re seeing.
Lots of improvements in the day to day.
Can’t wait for tomorrow
assuming I’m not murdered in the night!

Somewhere on the Upper West Side
near seventy second street
ought to be scrawled every- and anywhere
the phrase We Heart Franks
in honor of the long-standing

Gray’s Papaya, which, despite the name,
sells primarily hot dogs.

It does sell papaya juice, too,
but no papayas.

The grilled hot dogs are great.

They used to be one of the best deals in town.
Still called the Recession Special,
at six forty five for two dogs and a drink,
it’s not a bad price,
but when you remember a buck ninety five,
it’s hard to pay that without grumbling.

The dogs remain great.

The coconut champagne drink is delightful.
If you’re in the neighborhood
and you don’t mind ignoring
that you’re dining on horse’s anuses,
you should check out Gray’s Papaya.

Somewhere on the Upper West Side
scrawled into the sidewalk
is a heart with the name Frank next to it.
There is no clear author.

Perhaps the writer did not want to be outed
for fear of the repercussions of vandalism
or having their delicate heart bruised
by Frank’s response.

Perhaps Frank is gay, and doesn’t want

the writer’s straight attention
or everything’s reversed: and hetero Francis
is weirded out by the gay writer’s attention.
Or even Ace Frances has to let the trans writer down
– not because the writer is trans
but because the asexual Fran doesn’t want anyone’s attraction at this time
and maybe never.

Maybe Frank just loves themself
or has an enlarged organ
and feels the need to inform the public.

So much to consider.
Luckily, we have all the time in the world
to review.

There is a right and just way to do things
and I try to follow it.
What gets problematic
is when I try to… encourage others
to follow the right and just way, as well.

For the most part,
I’ve got a live and let live approach to life
so when someone won’t let folks
live and let live
I just want to shake ’em until they see the error of their ways.

I was in the park and I saw this kid running into a pile of pigeons.
He was scaring them.
Those poor pigeons!
I wanted to show the kid what it would feel like
by running and raging at him, full-speed.
I was able to temper my urge.
I haven’t been to the park since.

When I’m on the bus and someone takes an aisle seat
so that no one can get in to the window
I make a point to bustle on past them
sticking my butt in their face repeatedly.
When I am capable of farting on cue, I do so.
I’ve only been bloodied twice in the process
– only once with my own blood.

I try to be a paragon
of what I want to see
but if nobody knows just how humble I am,
how can they compliment me on it?

The days get longer
the days get shorter.
Time trudges ever further
away from our days
and I worry that I’ll never see you again
and that this might not worry you at all.

If I knew it caused you
the slightest bit of pain
that might be enough
to salve my hurting heart.

Got an email the other day
that service had been cancelled
but there was no mention of what the service was.

Just shrugged it off as spam.
This morning, though,
after waking up, getting out of bed and housing a stack of bacon,
just discovered no longer have access to eyes.
Sorry: I’s.

Subscription to first person singular
has been cancelled.

No longer have access to identity as individual.
Can’t identify as self.

Not so hard
but not so easy.
Grover does it;
others can, too.

Still, sucks.

It was strange to feel stupid
in class for those moments.

After understanding everything up until then
to suddenly just lose all comprehension
and draw a blank
so quickly,
it was strange, like I said
(am I repeating myself?)
– but fun for a minute.

I was able to out-of-body it
for a little while,
just relax into the idiocy
of incomprehension
and then begin
to put ideas together again.

It was all very weird
like a mini
mini-mini-mini-stroke occurred
and completely ended
over the course of seven minutes.

I didn’t fully understand everything from the class
at the end of it
so maybe I’m still stupid
but I’m getting better.