Nassy Fesharaki Poems

They cried.

They were all scattered
Shaking their stick legs
...

Wow

“Words are lame” said the brain.
After the eyes had complained:
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Zapata

His moustache, Zapata
Also chin, and his eyes
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Holland

Years are gone and victims must have died.
(Possibly and mostly)
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Tanya

Maybe, you too, had erased our handshake
I had; till I visited the office that you work in; no more
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Lost soul

You too upload your mind
As the flames in the cage
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His fasting

Lost among the stacks of wheat
Golden and dry, head to roots
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Borderless

Lucky am I
On the heroes’ horses
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Am I a thief?

I wonder what to name it
Maybe ‘theft’ or ‘learning’
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Chicha

At noon, coming north on Islington
Labors were ants heading for their den
...