[Poetry] Two Poems by Jonathan Fletcher

Immersed 

In a sea of tragedies,

I think it unfair

to dwell on one.

But 13,000 feet deep

underwater is

no small matter, when

trapped inside

a 22-foot-long submersible.

Nor is the pressure

of 400 atmospheres,

one per 32

meters of ocean.

In such stressful conditions,

I bow my head and pray:

one prayer

for every passenger

one prayer

for every hundred fathoms

one prayer

for every hour missing

Though I know some

did not care or pray,

or did care but do not pray,

or do pray but did not care,

I, like many others,

couldn’t help but do both.

Why, when needed

near the ocean floor—

cold, devoid of light,

in the company

of sea creatures

we’ve yet to find—

did our prayers rise

instead of sink?

Jesus at Lake Michigan

Here, there is little salt.

Your parable of salt

and light, would it have

the same effect?

The commercial fishers,

waterproofed

in yellow, would any

of them follow you?

Compared to more

than one million pounds

of fish—the average

take of commercial fishers—

what good is

a catch of 153 fish?

In the middle of winter,

when the lake freezes

over, how is impressive

is a walk on water?

Jonathan Fletcher holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Columbia University School of the Arts. His work has been featured in numerous literary journals and magazines, and he has won or placed in various literary contests. A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, he won Northwestern University Press’s Drinking Gourd Chapbook Poetry Prize contest in 2023, for which he will have his debut chapbook, This is My Body, published in 2025. Currently, he serves as a Zoeglossia Fellow and lives in San Antonio, Texas.