The Flop
by John Johnson
She says, oh, let’s not go over this again. Rather, let me show you instead a woman at her desk with her fingers. See how the ceiling above her head opens and down come people on spider threads. This is her story, its telling phrases. According to one theory, she goes out to see a double feature at a former movie palace, in the former heart of a city. College friends squeeze into a tool shed in the dark which is cozy and fun until one of them leans against something sharp. There’s a second balcony (closed). Shadows that must be bats dart across the screen. As she’s leaving, she hears a rooster crow, but can’t say where. It is her opinion she doesn’t have one. You can bet her mother never left her in a shopping cart. “Once a gambler, always a gambler.” She asks her mother, are you a gambler? “I used to be. They serve weak coffee here, but it’s free. If you complain, you’re supposed to put a dollar in the slot. We finish every session with a song. (That figures!): A bird in every hand. A period in every pot. The one inside never changes, only you do.”
John’s poems and translations have appeared in many print and online journals. He is co-translator, with Terry Ehret and Nancy J. Morales, of Plagios/Plagiarisms, the poetry of Ulalume González de León, winner of the 2021 Northern California Book Award for poetry in translation. You can find more of John’s work at poemalog.tumblr.com.