Ak47 Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

AK47

Much is said of the gun, gunpowder
Of murder.

M1 killed
And so did Revolver, Winchester
Most made in USA, these killers.
Feather-light was always a secret.

For making and killing, always is excuse:
“Be ready for facing Soviets, now Russians.”
And so on, mostly false, not true-human.

What is left is AK,
My friends A and K, average 47.
Not Ak47, Sharp Shooting, accurate
Good barrel in each hand. Everywhere!

My friends are two men.
They walk; dead.
Run away from home,
In search of one moment,
In peace of without her.

This too is, gun; killer.
“That is why they live long,
Keep the high percentage.
The true murderers are women.”
They say and I smile.

“Man and wife? ”
I question and read them stories
The novels, romantic
Juliet, Romeo
And Farhad and Shirin
And Leili with Majnoon.

“Either lies
Or there is some reason.”
Says one and other one:
“They died young.”
Flashback finds that right.