Pure Bred Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Pure bred

Held small dog in hand,
Animal, size of a rat
But it sang the dog song.

I approached
We spoke
She raised head,
Chest forward
Was proud:
"It is a pure bred."

Then went far,
Explained…

What she said
Landed on my ears
And sounded strange,
Yes, I am mix-blood.

I feel the uprooted
Like Iran's director,
In his films gives details
That to some, are boring,
I see depths, philosophy
And like his "Sex and love."

Read the local papers:
"Cure is in mixes,
Take parsley and carrot,
Pour the juice in glass,
Have it for breakfast."

Sure, I am half-bread,
On shoulders I carry
The ignored looks, ugly,
Feel being "Little Black Fish."

That makes me think about
The woman with the dog:
"Is a Chinese Chow-Chow,
Fully pure in blood…"

Once when on street
Saw the cats wandering
Stray and varied,
Ganged, ignored world us
As did my Dad and Mom
Rebelling ancient laws…

Were abandoned, somehow!

Milky Way and skies
Raised questions, I got lost:
"What the hell is right, wrong? "

Came woman on TV
Proudly speaking:
"My cat is a Persian…"

On Nevsky Prospekt
Met Pushkin with writings,
Recognised his feelings:
"I am part African
Uprooted was my dad…"

I respect my father's
Being first in village
To plant persimmon,
Funny were people's eyes
When biting lips, fingers.

Remember the days when
I removed pigeons' eggs
To replace with the hen's.

Always come in my mind
The women with cat, dog:
"Pure of Persia and China! "

Keep thinking about those
That are forced to exile,
Far away from homes
And culture, uncles, aunts,
Mixing the sex with love.