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About this Poem 

“At a dinner for the poet Nick Twemlow after he read at Columbia College, Yoko Ono came up in conversation. I told my anecdote about her, then said, ‘I guess it’s not much of an anecdote.’ But Nick liked it, and that prompted me to turn it into a poem and dedicate it to him.”

—David Trinidad

My Yoko Ono Moment

David Trinidad

for Nick Twemlow

It’s annoying
how much
junk mail
comes through
the slot
& accumulates
at the foot
of the stairs

mostly menus
from restaurants
in the neighborhood

coming through
the slot

despite the sign
we put on the door:
No Advertisements
No Solicitors

One night
I scoop up the whole pile
on my way out
(as I do periodically)
& dump it
in the trash can
on the corner
of West Broadway & Spring

just as Yoko Ono
happens to be strolling
through SoHo
with a male companion

She watches me
toss the menus

then turns to her friend
& says, “I guess
no one reads those.”

Copyright @ 2014 by David Trinidad. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-a-Day on June 6, 2014.

David Trinidad

David Trinidad is the author of numerous poetry collections, the most recent of which is Peyton Place: A Haiku Soap Opera (Turtle Point Press, 2013). He teaches at Columbia College and lives in Chicago. 

by this poet

In color photographs, my childhood house looks
fresh as an uncut sheet cake—
pale yellow buttercream, ribbons of white trim

squeezed from the grooved tip of a pastry tube.
Whose dream was this confection?
This suburb of identical, pillow-mint homes?

The sky, too, is pastel. Children roller skate
down the new

Just when you think you
can trust someone, they turn out
to be the Bad Seed.


I do not know which
to prefer: Shakespeare quote or
pillow fight after.


Stuffed bird and weirdo
behind desk—is Jack checking
into Bates Motel?


Rachel kidnaps the
baby, yes, but in preview
Betty and Rod kiss.