poems in 2026

John Lennon sang about peace
when I was only 5
but then he was shot in the back
four times, a few years later
imagine.
we all kept singing though
even after that
gave the peace sign to each other
in a wink-wink someday sort of way
like we were in on a big secret;
it was coming, any day now,
2,000 years of peacemakers
and peace preachers
had told us so
before they were killed, too,
point-blank or otherwise;
told us, told our parents,
told their parents who
kissed in the streets
when John Lennon was all but 5
imagine.
and so it goes,
peace dream
pipe dream
pish posh.