Lunch Hour Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

On fingers are the rings
Rooster-cock over neck
His skin, a zoo tattooed.
He has wolves, coyotes
All size leaves, flowers
Pierced the right nostril
And talking, so he talks
As if rain from a cloud
His parka on table and
I sit in front…

Girls sit at the next table
Steal looks and, do smile
I blink to confirm I see it
That motion finds a way
“We are all in one boat”

Other side a young man
Stands up walks around,
Keeps talking to himself
Ignoring all food; plates

I observe and wonder
Someone else, possibly
Watching me as I, him.

Hundreds in this place
Wide range, shape-sex
Are coming or leaving
Most sitting for a chat
For eating or drinking
I enjoy look, watching

That is my best movie.