Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Kareem Tayyar: Listening to Sergeant Pepper in Dasht-e Kavir

You hadn’t heard of the Beatles until they had broken up.

It was 1971.

You were still two years from leaving Tehran for Los Angeles.

 

Hassan’s uncle had gone to the Caspian Sea to fish for zander and carp,

And he had asked Hassan to housesit.

 

While Hassan spoke on the telephone to a girlfriend who was always

Breaking his heart,

You thumbed through a stack of records by bands whose names you’d never heard of.

 

After Hassan had left to go and deliver a bouquet of flowers,

John Lennon’s voice entered the living room and everything changed.

 

The moon was a white guitar strumming itself to sleep

Just beyond the second-floor windows,

And the rug on which you sat became a strawberry field

Whose fruits never went out of season.


 

Copyright 2018 Kareem Tayyar

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This entry was posted on March 1, 2018 by in Poetry and tagged , , .

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