Spoon Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Spoon

The worst is always me
-look at this story
-opens eyes
-teaches
-me…

Though born in a village
-city boy I was raised
-wish wasn't! ! !

In city we are taught:
-"To be safe use hygiene."
-and for that we purchase
-One-time use fork, spoon
-cups, plates, foods; tissues

In village all the hands
-dip in bowl, dish to have
-and fruits come plucked
-off trees and in farms

"Our way is…" he tells me
-"…bringing your spoon…
-what food comes is yours too,
-we are Kurd…"

I love them when they are
-true Kurd as they must
-not yet turned into ash
-of city and its shades
-in name of "Civilize"!

That I hate and hygiene
-which is not but money
-pay…receive…
-rest is not but shadows…
-Caring-less…carelessness! ! !

That is all…