By Check-List Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

By check-list

After a hang over
Leaving the, neighbour’s girl
He sits on a table
In front has files, and papers
With check-list
He reads and, sees boxes
On the side, of the sheet
Leaving some empty
And others with a tick

He is an official; does his job.

Far away in Turkey, Lebanon
And Yemen, Libya and Afghan
In the rooms, like sardines
Wounded and displaced
Seem asleep
Roll from side to side
Sick, tired, hungry
Women and children, elderly.

Youths go out, night and day
To find food, week a way
With labour and bribe, in secret
To get out, out of hell.

The man in that office
Following the check-list
Is blind to people and to pain
See nothing; just paper…he is shit.