John Findura

We started with trying

to regenerate three separate

limbs, but failed badly

We then, rightly, decided

to start with just one

and therefore had to pick

only the most important

We are still arguing over this

in a language everyone

has long ago forgotten

Calculating the Odds

There are three outcomes

and the odds are fifty/fifty

Make of that what you will

I make nothing of them

and still spin the dice

in my cold dry hands

I am sure I will lose

yet I still shoot the dice,

play the gamble, walk

reckless down your

hallway where someone

is now sitting in my seat

Regenerating the Scale on Which I Balance My Emotions

We tried to use a cardboard

box and some string that was

wrapped around a package of

cannoli but that didn’t work:

the box still had the shipping

labels on it and the string began

to unwind once pressure was

applied to the frayed ends

Next we tried using candles

and paperclips, a small desk fan

and a call for proposals but all

we were left with were small

injuries to our shoulders and a

feeling of unease around coffee

John Findura holds an MFA from The New School and is currently completing his professional license in psychotherapy. His poetry and criticism appear in numerous journals including Verse; Fourteen Hills; Copper Nickel; Pleiades; Forklift, Ohio; H_NGM_N; Jacket; and Rain Taxi. A guest blogger for the The Best American Poetry, he has won and been a finalist for various awards. He lives in northern New Jersey with his wife and daughters.