Treasure Island

Nassy Fesharaki

(Dec 29 / Iran)

10 K


He drove small cart
He cleans; when snow he plows.

He told me: “You know what? ”

It was not repartee; just one talked.

“A colleague has just found envelope” I heard him and wondered.

My question: “Found 10 K on campus? ”
Yes it was.

And my thoughts particles in space
A river when it comes off the heights
Flood-like filled with mud heads to sea to mix-up with the salt.

Who lost it? Why like that? What was of?

Microscope, telescope, eye of mind
Sees atoms, satellites

A young girl in corner all alone
Her pillow wet of sob
Her TV is turned off
Her cell phone in and out
She wants to but can’t call

“What to say? ” I see her and hear
Then I am submarine in her mind
There, the scene is a farm, Vietnam
Rice patty, buffalo and a man wearing hat
A woman with a pouch bends to rise

I see them sit for lunch
They grow, sell the rice and they talk and smile
“One more year, ” Woman says.
Man’s comment: “She’ll be here”
“Hopefully transfer…” they converse.
And the girl in her room, all alone and cries.

And Burney in his cart looks at me and goes on:
“Such money, in this way, is only of drug, ”

And my thoughts like clouds
Cumulus, sometimes look like cirrus, stratus

“It can be…” says logic.

“Some ass sure will be torn, ” Burney adds.

One told me of drug on campus:
“Plenty and easy, ”

And I see the founder in the bank
He gives card to teller
Then money
“Deposit”

And I see the man in the bar
He drinks and invites
Bar tender can read minds
“Won lotto? ”
Man frowns:
“On the rock, ”

And I see
And I see
And I see

Though easy
It is hard to stop
World’s turning round my head
Whose, why, what?

Submitted: Thursday, November 28, 2013
Edited: Thursday, November 28, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Usually I wait in the parking to watch the sun rise. Burney has seen me there for years and we chat once upon a time. This was his story.

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