Ports Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Ports

All of ports are the same
-being land, sea or air
-motions are similar.

People rush to somewhere
-past, current, future
-in search of adventure.

Locals are spices, flavours.

Here, there, the porters
-with a cart or hands bare
-act as owls
-searching for clients
-to carry their luggage
-and earn a few cents.

Scattered are hunters
-for preys that wander,
-in secret and open…

Many cons and cheaters
-some beg, panhandlers,
-some invent new games.

The floors and the walls
-lifts, steps, paths to walk
-and ceilings, true, false,
-are great stages for play.

Actors are thin and fat
-old and young, slow, fast
-all genders; woman, man.

Mise-en-scène is natural
-cosmetics, costumes, light
-are normal as they must.

And people on the run
-heading for, coming from
-want coffee; tired eyes…