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Red, Black, Yellow | Zero Readers

Red, Black, Yellow

by | Issue #4, Issues

I told you I saw a red car
and the positions we would sit in

When I said that I was lying

There was no car
and I can’t even pretend our positions

I did see a red stain on the bed
in the shape of your mouth

When you asked me to predict I did
There was a red stain on the bed

The shape of your mouth

I don’t remember what you asked me to see
just that I saw a little and lied a lot

I was right about the red stain
I was wrong about the car

Prediction is a drowsy art

I paint your red mouth over mine

John Findura is the author of the poetry collection Submerged (Five Oaks Press, 2017) and the forthcoming chapbook Useful Shrapnel (2022). 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.