Rest My Case Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Rest My Case



Rest my case

I can feel the stench
It stinks
In my hand a stick; I stir
Smells worse
Hurriedly I try to cover
Even worse
I stir
Here, there I look for a stone or a lid
To cover
It worsens
Up and down
I rush, run
With stick I move parts
Worse gets worst
I sit, think
It's Dorma; defecate
It must be politics
I therefore
Rest my case; run away

Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: politics
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