Straight Line Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Straight line

I have map in front
USA, Canada…

A line is chosen to
Set border and divide
Washington, Ottawa…

Line is called:
International;
International?
International!

I read, look
And go on…
With fear
And shiver
And am lost…

International;
International?
International!

Whose land?
How?
What for?
Why?

Both spoke English
Their root is British…

International;
International?
International!

Is it joke?
Or dumbness?
Carelessness?
Unaware?

And still
They insist…
Read reports, books, papers
Read of time, what happened
Then, make sure you are fair
Not to right, no to left
Be breeze, flexible…

International;
International?
International!

Feel the heights, hills, rivers,
Animals and trees, nest-less birds
And the old residents of the time,
Centuries and many, many years.

Then ponder:
International;
International?
International!

Latitude "Forty-Nine"
To me is same as wall
Of beloved Trump…

I am lost in these lines
That act like tailors' cut
Of leathers and cloths
Just to form a design
Feel deep pain in brain:
International;
International?
International!

Reply comes from wise:
"Governments' hearts of rock
That bury injured, dead,
Are copies of leeches, want blood! "

But still
Families and friends
Of the two sides of lines
To me are like fingers…
They were cut from joints!