Nassy Fesharaki Poems

Your smile; sometimes laugh
I can see and do feel. What you think of the old foolish man
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Already a husband
A father to be
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I shout
In dark
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Ahmad took me to vegetables’ market in Esfahan. I was just a kid and he was a well-aware young man. He bought a melon, the Gorgab one, very much known for its taste. He borrowed a knife and the seller knew what he would gain. He was not much concerned with the profit from the sale of course.
Ahmad squatted; his butt hung and touched the back of his folded legs. The soles of his shoes were flat and on the ground. His big hands, comparing to mine, held the long yellow melon like a baby lamb and the knife slit its throat.
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Door banged, slammed
Lights low, room tight
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“You’re flying-Bear.”
Said the hanging finch;
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Can my arm?

Can my arm take the arms?
Take some brick to break the break. Break of
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It is August 28th to be exact
No rain so far. Cloudy? Humid? Yes!
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Yes I am
Yes I am
Yes I am
Ethiopian
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Degree
In this world there are paths like rail tracks
They don’t cross
Like Beijing’s and Montreal’s
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