Nassy Fesharaki Poems

Fall from Grace

Pants black, shirt black, right in size
She fooled me and stole heart and mind
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Dots

Dots make my poems, dispersed
Connected, related and scattered
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Hat and I

Like snow in the pot on fire
I melt, shrink; now flake, granule
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Two birds?

“Hey Sufi…”
Called merchant.
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USA won over Iran

In a race, volleyball
USA and Iran, in Tehran
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Night Always

Then…
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Ox

Like the thing on counter; plastic duplicate, a doctor
Stethoscopes, magnifier, otoscope, microscope
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What is left to brush?

Her t-shirt solid red, on it said: |Budweiser”
I looked and, looked away, shut my mouth,
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Mini skirt

The paintings on the walls, of the past, rule-eras
Original in a way meaningful
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Mug in hand

Head turned left, he walks west
Hair curly and brown, right hand mug
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