Shooting at the Dakota

I’m still trying to figure out John Lennon’s death

The book of Timothy opens on a random rock. Photo by Mark Tulin

I remember the day
John Lennon was shot in the chest.
It was December 8, 1980.
It happened inside the archway of the Dakota
by a deranged fan holding a gun
and a signed copy of the Double Fantasy album.

My thoughts were —
it’s bad enough our lives are temporary,
and we have to deal
with fatal diseases and accidents,
but to be a murder victim
is too cruel to accept.

Which makes me wonder
about our spiritual protectors,
whose rituals we worship and honor,
who we fight wars for,
go on witch hunts and inquisitions,
and burn the non-believers at the stake.

It makes me wonder
why the preachers
talk about God’s power.
If it’s not one religion,
it’s another
that leads us down
a dead-end road.