Talking Bed Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Talking bed

I came back; of doctor
Body called “Need some rest”
Soon after we ended in the bed.

I slept for sometime
No one knows for how long.
Half asleep-half awake

Things happened, different
Some changes, my bed was in garage
How and why? Do not know; just somehow.

The shatter was lowered, but open
I could see, was rainy and grass, straws
Came a boy, little one, with invite.

He was too surprised, as was I
“But you are one of the…”
He defined “great ones” and was wrong.

I must have, purchased house of someone
As defined; I tried to get up, fix the things
Mattress fell; gave number and shouted “Call! ”

I was shocked, then sheet fell, another
I tried to fix but, all got worse, strange
What a mess; increased the falling, disorders!

Was the child my youngest, my Puya?
Whom I miss, as do rest, in my heart
Is dream as science of Freud, or of mind?

Or is it, all the thought of the house
I saw bought, de-grassed for asphalt
Or of men whom I met, in Taftan
All despaired, some talking of scape
Laboring in building but their past in Iran?

Was I cooking up some fiction on the facts?
Smuggled to Lahore, encounters, also paths,
And the rest, to Alman, and here, Canada?