On Me Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

On me

I was dead, they on me
-I saw them celebrate;
-on my corpse a parade.

Silently gathered soul
-squat, chose corner
-and observed.

Somehow felt miracle
-Miracle, Miracle.

I knew what they said
-all of them
-to their kinds and others.

"This one tastes fresh milk! "
-said one and another:
- "This one is like the veal
-very old, frozen, expired! "

Felt ashamed, hid further
-they revealed my secrets.

They spoke of what I
-had eaten in last years.

Cockroaches and the ants
-and many yellow-white
-to beige in dark and light;
-all insects that lived there
-in tummy of the Earth,
-underground residents…

They gathered on me as
-attack the pack of wolves
-and wild dogs, and vulture
-when living turns to dead.

I felt shy, miserable
-as they took piece, ate
-in shock, was awakened…