Nassy Fesharaki Poems

Virtual

You called me a nomad, barbaric, and backward
That made me take time off, sit alone
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Air fight

Flat is everywhere, flattened
Trees cut, land ploughed
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Red Kia

Red KIA on the road
Picked speed like a joke
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Remake

My mother
Dear one.
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Я Шарли Эбдо

It is said:
'Poet is, possibly
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Canada Dry

Born too far; over seas
Our houses made of mud
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Newsmen

Hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquake, volcanoes
Are bless as are wars, ignorance
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A drunk Indian

Floated as does boat
Broken by the waves
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Independence

In low lands, Santa Cruz
Guarani is bruised
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Kids like Goats

Filled with hate, or dislike
I remained in the car
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