Microwave Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Microwave

Let's talk of ‘life; and ‘need'
Enjoying and making, to bleed.

On land of army base
Buildings rise, take place
And vary the workers
Some local born and raised
Newfoundland and Quebec to here, GTA
But mostly of elsewhere
Of Andes or the lands nearby
Brazil, Mexico, Uruguay, Columbia; Etc.
Some from Jamaica…

Most, almost each or all, illegal
‘Not to work'
Their permits to come, go, or visit
But have need, roll sleeves
Many tongues they speak
Among them found Turkish and Kurdish, Arabic.

I am a microscope, telescope
Journalist, a poet, filmmaker
Camera, recorder; and of course
Hopefully, one who cares!

Microwave at lunchtime
Came out of an old car
One of the plenty abandoned on roadside.

Carpenters with those belts
Carrying hammers, nails, underneath a harness
Gathered and took their turn
Each warmed food, separate containers
I smiled and enjoyed: "Poor maybe, but have life…"

Then anger took over
Heart beat fast like thunder:
"They bleed and risk lives
And copy of Donald Trump
In Oakville, gets richer! ! ! "