5 Poems

Poetry by John Findura

I Never Thought I’d See What I Saw Today

You don’t understand when I say gone
I mean it doesn’t exist anymore

There are many things that were once there

my hands, your mouth, etc.

I have lost all the pictures, the arcade tickets,
but I remember a motel room, a broken window,
a girl’s name, her hand on my hand

Those things don’t exist anymore, either

It Will Be Different

Every time I go back it is different
but this is a different kind of different

This is the kind of different where
you lose your bearings and nausea
climbs up your shaking body

This is the different where people say
They rebuilt Dresden after the firebombing
but they have never been to Dresden, never
saw a firebombing, didn’t have their own
hair singed off their arms and faces, never
heard what a spiraling funnel of fire sounds like

This is the kind where you being to pray
without realizing that you are praying

Something Happened

This happens all the time
and we barely realize it

Once something happened
and I touched a girl’s breast

Once something happened
and I broke my arm in half

Sometimes these things happen
Other times I spit out saltwater

Most times, though, these things
happen without us treading water

The Ocean Is In The Road

Most shark attacks occur
ten feet from shore

But now the ocean is in the road

No one expects a shark attack
ten feet from their front door

Then again, you never expected
the ocean to be in the road

Yet here it is climbing the front
steps your grandfather built

You want to turn and say
You’re gonna need a bigger house

Oh, darling, there’s no one there
They’ve all paddled off down the street

There Are Boats In The Street Five Blocks From The Ocean

What we were dealing with
is a perfect engine, a machine
that swallows everything
whole and leaves nothing behind

All this machine does is flood
the land, eat houses, highways,
trees, entire neighborhoods,
spits out splinters of boardwalks

It carries boats to streets
five blocks from the ocean
and never turns to look back,
leaving us to turn and look back

John Findura holds an MFA from The New School. A finalist for the Colorado Prize in Poetry and a guest blogger for The Best American Poetry, his poetry and criticism appear in journals such as Verse, Fugue, Fourteen Hills, Copper Nickel, Pleiades, H_NGM_N, Jacket, and Rain Taxi, among others. Born in Paterson, he lives in Northern New Jersey with his wife and daughter.

Featured Image photograph by E.B. Bartels, www.ebbartels.com.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related Posts

Begin typing your search term above and press enter to search. Press ESC to cancel.

Back To Top