Bullet In The Pot Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Bullet in the pot

Wear your glasses
The ones that read
Jack London
John Steinbeck
And that time…
West is attacked
Bullets are wild
Brains are blocked
With greed of a kind
Now
Leave the city lights
Go with me to
"Feshark"
The mountains are brown
-light to dark
-to grey
And plains
Vast-endless
Erotic and all bare
Comes breeze
-if not wind
With bushes scattered
-in times rare

Plenty are the herds
-and trees
-with fruits
-born, ripened
-thanks to men and women
And west is rich and wild
-on horses
-and mules
-with gunners
Boom, attack
-shoot and loot is their aim and success
-till Zorro is born, made
-shot bullet in their pot
-that was it…full stop
-peace came back.

"Tooth for tooth, eye for eye, " found its way.