Nassy Fesharaki

Gold Star - 68,018 Points (Dec 29 / Toronto)

His Work - Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

His work

Seems to have seventies
Wears his cap both of eyes
Has false teeth.

Creasy his pants, and
Brand new are his shoes
Sport-like cheap brand.

A bag hangs on his neck
A horses’, filled with hay
Inside it paper leaves
He takes out to stick.

On the walls of glass,
And the side in the sight.

Unlike those in the cars
He walks by the stench
Of raccoons’, and skunks’
Dead after hit and run.

Topic(s) of this poem: observation


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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 7, 2015

Poem Edited: Tuesday, September 8, 2015


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