Yoko

five, four, three
green warming to amber
the road shrinks
you into an epileptic slumber

two, one, ze—
sirens and scrubs
chewed tongue and punctured veins
foreign doctors calling on nurses
to prepare sedatives

negative one, two, three
a free spirit emerges beyond
the white horizon
everything is white
yoko emerges with a ukulele
but plays the double bass instead
you wrap yourself with a floral scarf
but you find yourself naked
in a fetal position underneath a
film of sweat

yoko smiles as she serve you coffee
you stare deeply into the sun