Iranian Che Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Iranian Che

The shootings and murders
On the roads, inside jails
We meant to come to end.

Red roses in the guns,
Army then surrendered
Came Rebels to the courts.

I as one felt like Che
Gave speech in corners
Filmed, photo'd, here, there.

Time passed and for decades
I searched but never heard
Of men of cameras…

Flipped coin yesterday.

Went to get my posters
For our film to hang them
"No work on Saturdays"
On the door; encountered.

Tailor shop was open
I went in with questions.

Never thought, expected:
"Ali is my husband, "
She called him and we met.

He had his camera
On days that I spoke.

We sat long for a bite
Talked movies, past and now
Both of us immigrants
Both of us are mourners
Both to past, even now,
Thanks to things we have done
Going round raising signs...
With written slogans…