Poetry Sunday: Where's that thing by John Kenney

I laughed out loud when I read this poem last week. It sounds so familiar. It's just like some of the conversations my husband and I have. Does anyone else have conversations like this?

Where’s that thing?
by John Kenney
Where’s that thing?
you ask me
looking in the cabinet above the stove.
The new one or old one, I reply,
fairly sure you know what I mean.
Old one.
Under the sink.
It’s not there.
Just look.
I’m looking.
Look under that stuff.
It’s not here.
The other stuff.
Wait. You mean the green one?
No. Blue. I think it’s blue.
Oh. That’s in the drawer.
I checked the drawer.
Did you check behind the plastic thing?
We’re talking about the same thing, right, the one with the
   weird top?
Of course.
Wait. Here it is.


  1. Ha! That’s awesome verse. The only difference from what goes on in my house is that the “thing” is usually in the first place that my wife said it was in. I then proceed to tell her that it is not there even though it is there and I just do not notice it.

    1. I have a feeling that such conversations happen in a lot of houses!

  2. My wife could have written that! Her standard thing is to say, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Oh here it is dear, right behind the cans of chickpeas." Once she adds "dear" I know I am in trouble!

    1. My husband will be relieved to know he's not the only one!

  3. Oh my yes!! Did I ever tell you that my husband's mom used to say to him, "You look like your father."

    1. Fathers and sons, mothers and daughters - maybe we all end up being our parents.

  4. It certainly struck a chord of familiarity.

  5. Hahaha...That's how my mother and I talk. :-P

    1. It's probably the way many people who know each other perhaps too well communicate. I could certainly relate.


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