jonberger

If you do the math
it doesn’t make you a mathematician
or some sort of a magician,
it just makes you someone who could read the signs.

That doesn’t make you a cartographer, though.
You could just interpret what was put before you
– not that you’re a linguist. You were just able
to crack the code. Not like a cryptanalyst would, of course.
That’s a whole ‘nother thing.

You were able to listen real well, like a translator, but not.
Maybe like an operator.

Well, any way you slice it, you got the message.

Thanks for understanding.

If a piece of wood were to come up to me
and say, “Hey there, how you doing?”
I’d like to think I’d take it in stride.

Thing is, as I’ve gotten older,
I’ve started doing defensive shit like saying,
“We know each other?”
so I might put the piece of wood off,
put it on its back peg,
as the expression sort of goes.

But maybe I’d be into the moment.
It’s a New York scene:
The long post approaches,
introduces itself,
asks about my welfare,
and I got nowhere to go,
so I lollygag on the street
shooting the shit with my neighbor.

But what if I wonder
he’s setting me up
for a takedown?
If he’s stiff in his approach,
maybe there’s a guy out back
trying to pick my pocket.
See, I didn’t even think of this at first
but now I’m getting suspicious of the post’s motives.
What if the whole introduction
is ’cause he’s up to no good?

Maybe it’s better I get where I’m going fast
and leave this lumbering timber alone.
.

There’s a post across the street from my place
that never did nothing to me
and I never did nothing to it
and I wonder, “I’ve lived in this
forbidding neighborhood
for like, twenty two years now
and this ginormous post has been here
at least that long
and we’ve had nothing to do with each other.
What’s up with that?”

But the post is on the opposite side of the street
and I’m over here
with my window closed
and it’s got no light
and I’m not very outgoing when I’m in my neighborhood
– my room-mate and I barely talk.

Maybe this is something about which
I should look within.
Maybe the post is the strong and silent type.
Maybe I just haven’t made the effort.
Maybe the post doesn’t want anything to do with me.
Maybe I need more sleep.

There’s this poetry page
where random poems
are written out for you to read.
They are good poems,
well worth reading.

Above each poem
they have a video
showing an image of the poem
with an automated voice reading the poem.

Perhaps there are occasions
where a human reads the poem
but all I have heard
are lifeless monotone renditions
that are preceded by advertisements.

This is a feature that is a detriment to art.
If you know about this poetry page,
why would you use it?

Well, the poems themselves are good…

I am dedicated to the cause.So strong is my faith
I would fight to the last ragged breath.
Maybe the fifth to last breath.
Honestly, I’d probably give up before the end
to gulp some air back in.

In fact, if truth has entered the building,
I might sell out the cause
if the right job is offered to me.
If I could get a tenured writing gig,
that would be pretty sweet.
Just responsibility for regular writing
on a particular subject.
It could be blog, poetry, journalism,
whatever.
I could even badmouth the cause
if it comes to it.
I’m not picky.

Hey, when it comes down to it,
if you’re buying lunch,
I may be coerced to change sides.
Just where are we going, anyway?

Some of the principlesI used to hold dear
are dissipating,
dust in the wind of convenience.

Maybe they aren’t principles
so much as things I said I didn’t want to do.
After the COVID crisis,
I swore "No cruises!"
because of the horror stories
of people in plague ships
left aboard boats for weeks
while their viruses festered
and no one would bring them ashore.
Cruises felt like an excellent opportunity
for diseases to coalesce.

Now that I have time on my hands, though,
a cruise sounds really nice.
I’m thinking the UK,
even though they sold their soul out
with Brexit.

I have held on to my ancient iPhone 6S
for seven years now, because it has
the eighth inch headphone jack,
a feature that Apple opted to remove.
I’ve decided to boycott later upgrades
– though I can’t bear to leave Apple.
So I’ve waited until they offer an improved product
but my phone needs to be replaced
as it’s woefully out of date.

I’ll have to get something new.
It’ll have to be an iPhone.
I’ll have to buy from that which I consider the enemy
and it’ll be an amazing upgrade
which will make my life so much easier.

I am going to swallow my beliefs in the name of
smoother transitions.
I don’t know what to do with myself
except live in comfort
and die of shame.

A lot of timesit’s fun to look back on an old piece of work
and unravel the code
just recognize where you were when creating
and identify what the words mean
translate the "poetry" back to "English."

A lot of times
it’s frustrating to look back on an old piece of work
and wonder who the fuck
that crackpot was that spooled together
that tangled little yarn.

Silence is theoretical here in my world
where an ambient thrum
exists in the background of everything else.

Some mornings, I can hear chirps
but they are usually swallowed
by the rolling of trucks
or the beeps of buses

and the shouts of construction workers.

There are creaks of gates
and skitters of I-don’t-want-to-know
and planes overhead at all hours.

Silence is never a sound
and darkness never a friend
in this part of town.
I’m not sure I’d recognize them
should I ever come to meet them.

While it is true that Elvis had become increasingly accomplished
with his instrument over the years
better able to maintain breath
and bend notes,
it did not necessarily make his voice easier to hear.

It was an acquired taste
which not everyone chose to acquire.
His literary prowess was acclaimed near and far
so the words that he sang were well appreciated
and the way he sang them got better and better,
but the actual sound of them?

Eh.

Of course, there are worse fates.
In some other world
he could have been called Garon Abbot.

If you summon the demon
you must be prepared to listen to the demon
when it arrives.
That is the intrinsic deal
you agree to
with the summoning.

If you don’t listen to the demon
then you have expended
a great deal of energy
and materials
for little reward
even if your intent
was to command the demon,
not converse with it.

Listening is just part of the package.

Yes, I suppose my statement
does fall under the sunk cost fallacy,
where we assume that
just because you’ve already invested,
we have to wait until it pays off,
thus risking further loss.

Yes, I recognize that fallacy is right there
in the name.
Yes, I get it.

Thank you, demon.