Tags
Hamburg, Inagine, John Lennon, Lenin, Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, poem, poetry, Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, THE BEATLES, wordplay
MR LENNON
I thought you
were a
lowly insect
but now you tell me
you are the
Working Class Hero
interred in
Red Square
my brain
reeling from this, and
from smudge of
Hanoverian in
your saucy scouse accent
gone turned
pink and white
and bubble-gum blue marshmallow
(top ingredient in the pies
rocking-horse
people like)
yes, I read of your death
browsing the backseat
in a newspaper taxi
“imagine that!” the taxi-driver cried,
they were all
in dress uniform
waiting for outbreak
of war
or some vaudeville event
and Alice, through the mirror, out
in one of your deftly landscaped gardens
wondering, as we
we will
all be
wondering forever and ever
as aliens
in distant galaxies will be wondering
what
it all
meant
what “Day in
the Life” might have
done to our heads.
