Tag Archives: Soup Nazi

New York memoir locked down in Oz

Dakota

The first time I saw it
was from the hop-on hop-off bus
glimpsing Strawberry Fields
as we headed for 9/11 & the Soup Nazi

I looked for Yoko carrying a shopping bag
and was disappointed

This time I walked through Central Park
dodging nannies, yummies
doing exercises holding prams

Randoms
taking photos
on a mosaic mandala        shrine
with the title of his song inlaid

In twenty thirteen, early autumn,
winter nowhere on the horizon

it was impossible to imagine a psycho
with a gun taking his wonked brain

for a blood-splattered run,
letting it right off the leash,
making yesterday history.

A John lookalike was playing
his twangy thang

A blackbird flew out of it

 

First appeared in Cordite Review