I didn’t look when
she took off her shirt
but I thought about
it the entire train ride
to Brooklyn
She was standing next
to me, both of us
facing the audience
behind a see-through
screen when she pulled
the green tank
top over her head
and I stood stock still,
fixing my eyes beyond
the stage
I was proud of myself
for this immaculate
self-control, although
I’m sure she’s
forgotten by now,
and I would rather
have the memory of her
naked perfection
than have this poor
recounting of my courtesy
Copyright. John Findura.
John Findura is the author of the full-length poetry collection Submerged (Five Oaks Press, 2017) and the chapbook Useful Shrapnel (forthcoming, 2022). He holds an MFA from The New School, an M.Ed in Professional Counseling, and an Ed.D in Educational Technology. His poetry and criticism appear in numerous journals including Verse; Fourteen Hills; Copper Nickel; Pleiades; Forklift, Ohio; Sixth Finch; Prelude; and Rain Taxi. A guest blogger for The Best American Poetry, he lives in Northern New Jersey with his wife and daughters.
