Nassy Fesharaki Poems

I hate my love

Radio, this strangest product of, the mankind
For me, always, asking my mother as a child:
...

Sergey

A child, a teenager
Serozha had his driver
...

Shells

High on the mountains
If walking open eyed
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Economics

There is always a first time
I never heard of Redel, Victoria.
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My guest

She stands at window
On curtain her shadow
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Ouch

Tiny butterfly for drink,
wetness of the leaf, the wall, a petal.
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Fuss

Up there
High in air
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Where are we?

He has stepped forward
“I am half blind.”
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Mindless

I
A poet
...

My God

Face to face I sat and
My eyes red I frowned
...