| Jonathan Berger's Poetry: Poem of the Day |
| MIRRORS There�s a full-length mirror in the bathtub so that when I take a shower I can see everything I can see all of me I�m talking about my pee pee. What kind of a sick fuck designed this place? I don�t know about anyone else, but I consider my dick the surest sign of my weakness my insufficiency my lack and my want. My penis is part and parcel of all that makes me puny � am I right, guys? Now, I honestly don�t know how I stack up against the median � I was home-schooled and I can�t afford a gym; so, unless I ever get invited to one of those legendary circle jerks a friend of a friend once heard about (Oh, why can�t I be part of that scene?) � all I ever see is a tiny flap of meat, dangly and diminished hot-doggy, and I think and I wish, �There must be something more than this.� Even it�s frequent change of dimension points poorly back to me. Can�t my body even make up its mind what it�s supposed to be? It�s not like my feet suddenly go rock solid at the most inconvenient times� Well, OK, that once� All of this flashes before my eyes in this damnable shower as I regularly flash me. I am persecuted by an architect who wants to shame me to shrink me to separate my psyche from my cock. The builder was probably a woman. Damn her! And damn me, for being so small (Oh, why must I be fourteen inches?) |