Nassy Fesharaki

About a decade had passed
Bertrand Russell had written
Why I Am Not a Christian
In 1957
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Hands in air

In news see some tanks
Next to them the soldiers
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Child birth

She knew everything
About us; awake or deep asleep.
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Ay poets
Ay people
Toronto, Canada
Continents, Africa, Asia
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Beak yellow
Spotty the feathers
(Gold on black)
Tail is short
...

It was more beard than anything else
In poetry they converged, varied in age
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Eyes and nose

With impacts I came home
In the heat, cold no more.
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A single mother

Sit, rewind what observed.
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So sexy

Shameless she stands there in open
And throws her clothes in single…
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Doves in the cold

Like carving; you and me
On the young, wild tree
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In my heart
In this room
A carpet and a loom
Were designed to gloom
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Being a poet

And what is a poet?
-can compare to a bird!
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Time

Tick, tick, tick
Move and sing hands of clock
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Small head

Don't know why for some time
-I have been thinking of
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Syria

Syria be aware
I love you
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Died to live

Humble he
-is my best
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My pass

Have stamps in my pass,
Lecturers, orators
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I am out

They tell me of the dog
-feel arrow in my heart.
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Feeling good

Music of Andes,
Symphonia playing,
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Lionesses

Read the Koran, Bible,
Both New, and Ancient,
...