Smuggled human hair from Mexico
Falls radiant around the waxy O
Of her scream. Shades on, leather coat and pants, Yoko
On her knees — like the famous Kent State photo
Where the girl can’t shriek her boyfriend alive, her arms
Windmilling Ohio sky.
A pump in John’s chest heaves
To mimic death throes. The blood is made of latex.
His glasses, broken on the plastic sidewalk.
A scowling David Chapman, his arms outstretched,
His pistol barrel spiraling fake smoke
In a siren’s red wash, completes the composition,
And somewhere background music plays “Imagine”
Before the tableau darkens. We push a button
To renew the scream.
The chest starts up again.
Source: David Wojahn. Mystery Train. Pittsburgh, University of Pittsburgh Press, ©1990.