top of page

"Intermittent Connection" by John Wojtowicz

I see a woman hang gliding over the cornfields as I drive to my 9-5 and smile enthused by this rebellion

of the weekday slog.

And I’m not romanticizing good ole days full of humble famines and quaint diseases. But simply recognizing

my own longing for less separation from the actual world,

to solve my dissonance

with the old gods.

After work, I notice my tomato plants have sprouted

Tuscan-yellow flowers of lace. My little daughter helps tie

the stalks to bamboo stakes,

secure them upright

before the fruit appear. We catch fireflies, naming them

before they leave us. In these moments, I assume body and spirit become one or maybe the spirit

just overtakes the body for a time. Sort of what I imagine flying feels like

temporarily dialed

into some universal frequency.

John Wojtowicz grew up working on his family’s azalea and rhododendron nursery in the backwoods of what Ginsberg dubbed “nowhere Zen New Jersey.” Currently, he works as a licensed clinical social worker and adjunct professor. He has been featured on Rowan University’s Writer’s Roundtable on 89.7 WGLS-FM and several of his poems were chosen to be exhibited in Princeton University's 2021 Unique Minds: Creative Voices art show at the Lewis Center for the Arts. His debut coffee-table-style chapbook Roadside Attractions: a poetic guide to American Oddities was published in 2022. John serves as the Local Lyrics contributor for The Mad Poets Society Blog. He lives with his wife and two children in Upper Deerfield, NJ. Check him out on the web at:

Recent Posts

See All

You may never stop asking so I will tell you We were hunted like prey and forced to sleep under trees with the snakes My father was adept with a spear, though there wasn’t enough game in the world to

For I.V. I. It was the future But I remember It was that time we held hands Fingers interlocked like a zipper or the mouth of a flytrap I once folded a map at an awkward angle I punched a hole that we

He never howls when he’s awake. When everything depends—has always depended on acting like nothing is wrong. —Kate Greenstreet, from “2 of Swords” Teeth brushed directly after a radish. The effect un

bottom of page