If John Berryman Wrote Love Songs By Jason Arbogast

They’d be dedicated to cheap vodka,

and we’d be afraid every time the radio came on.

If John Berryman wrote love songs,

they’d be two minute, alternative ditties

to be sung in a schizophrenic duet,

have depressive lyrics punctuated

by inappropriate laughter,

and a damn good beat(ing).

The spaces between beats would 

say more than any random pop song ever said,

and each CD would be packaged with a shot glass, 

a box of rubbers, and a pack of smokes,

to be used in that order.

If John Berryman wrote love songs,

they would stem from second-hand knowledge,

like five eunuchs trying to describe the Kama Sutra,

defining love by what it lacked,

and lust as the one word on all men’s tongues,

just dressed differently for each woman.

If John Berryman wrote love songs,

weddings would be somber affairs,

and no one would have one as ‘their’ song

unless they had a good pre-nup and a masochistic streak.

No one would dance to them,

they couldn’t keep 

up.

If John Berryman wrote love songs,

they’d be sealed in vodka bottles 

and tossed off the Washington Avenue Bridge,

so they could float away

to be discovered the next day,

the next week,

the next month,

alone.

Jason Arbogast currently lives in Kalamazoo, Michigan, where he buys and resells various pieces of nerdery. He taught in one form or another for twenty years, and expects to return to it soon. He has had pieces appear in right hand pointing, Iodine Magazine, Defenestration, and other publications. His novel, Amber Sea of the Dead, is available on Amazon.com.