Chips Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
Chips
Chips
Thin and long, bony face
Mouth small and thin lips,
With no room to land kiss
She rushed; bought sandwich
A coffee, bag of chips
Sat like hen on the eggs
Her fingers, the rat’s rail
Nails painted heart-liver
Blood-red
Bites and chews and reads texts
Short break, in blink back again
She works as secretor
Rush and buy, sit on chair
Eat and run
This life is “Nine to five”.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 12:22:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
