Funeral Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Funeral

He who has radio, and baton, and the gun
Stands there in green like a mum
He wears hat; an apple under feet of camel
Shapeless and has no use, is flat.

Funeral in a hall
Man in suit, all black
Well ironed, sharp, glass
Runs to road with big sign
On it is: “PLEASE STOP”

Cars come out
Hazard lights
On flash.

Why police with baton, gun and hat?
Perfection is in man in black.
Both slaves to greed
Look for tip.