John Johnson
Is My Floating House Real Estate?
A call goes out and we pave the way toward heaven. But soon the human pyramid is tipping, and somebody’s god is spinning dinner plates, threatening to turn us into spiders or stags, some species commensurate with our offense. Heedless of the moment, I ask if my heart is an idle factory, and if I've failed again to paint my neighbor's self-portrait. But the god shouts something unintelligible over his shoulder as he dashes from here to there and back again, giving each plate another spin, trying to keep them all from falling.
Slow Walker
This pencil is useless. A candy butcher gave it to me. When the tsunami crested the seawall we ran toward it to get a better look. The envelope said “DO NOT OPEN,” so I opened it. That’s when I noticed familiar things collecting in the water, things I hadn’t seen in years. There was my wrist watch signed by Willie Mays, and my straw hat from Mexico, and my Beatle boots. Other people, too, were reaching through the water for their old possessions. We were all so happy to see them again, returning to us like those famous dogs so incredibly devoted that they travel ridiculous distances to rejoin their owners who lost track of them one day at a gas station or rest stop.
John Johnson is the author of Toss Repeat, winner of the 2024 James Tate Prize (SurVision Books, 2025), and co-translator of Plagios/Plagiarisms, the poetry of Ulalume González de León, winner of the 2021 Northern California Book Award for poetry in translation.