Hunk Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Hunk

The note read:
"Hunk upon arrival! "

Her yard, house
-face, outward
-and her heart
-all messed up!

Was greatly inward…

She took me to the books, stories
-with man dead and woman
-secretive…
-novellike, drama with horror…

A psycho?
A writer?
A painter?
Confused?
Murderer?

She could be any but;
-surely not standard
-and not a "Nine to Five! "

Was not kind to wake up
-dress well with make up
-breakfast and lunchbox!

She was the sort who are
-quiet, worrisome!

"Have two cats…"
-commented.

Had seen them
-quite fat, and brown
-round faces, short ears
-ran and hid as I came
-resurfaced when she came
-and watched us when we talked.

There, also, visible
-too close to frame
-sat a jar of glass,
-half-filled with the coins
-Dime, Nickle and pennies.

"The chair and the sofa…"
- (pointed with finger)
- (both whitish, colourless
-and torn, mess, disarranged)
- "…are for them…"

For a while she stopped
- "…to sit on and to rest…"

Though the door was open
-her and my attention
-were on cats to make sure
-will be out; there remain.

Entrance and the hall
-were looking like a cave
-sneaked out from sides
-and ceiling, stalactites
-sharp edges, stalagmites…

Could picture her neighbours
-coming by her place
-leaving food in plates
-and drop, some more change…

If one asked of her life, they
-would look, nodding head:
- "…is sick and out of place! "

"I saved cats…"
"They had been abandoned…"

I thought of immigrants
- (departing, at borders…)
-and the most recent-dead
-in Trump's USA! "The Great? "