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.