Surface Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Surface

She, a friend, a student, or an acquaintance
Though born in Bulgaria is more of a Soviet.
“My brain was developed there.”
She says and complains:
“Our fall is caused by USA.”
She is open in showing interest to work with latter.

“I am scientist and science belongs to the world…for success.”

Her highest degree in SURFACE died along with her dream-life
With USSR.

“This happened to millions, ” says she “Brains were harmed.”

The builder and the renovator too work with surface but…
Do they think or know anything about sparks, jumping lights of metal cutting?
Do they care for these flickering short-lived hot teardrops of the surface?
Do they…?
Do they know anything about the cement flattened on the surface?
The paint and plaster that cover the walls
The earth’s valuable life for greens, and the surface that is bed for flowers
And hope for all, including the worms
That give life to birds and the cycle that goes on
Or the ants that had home under the mosaics…
And carelessly lost home when it was removed, destroyed…

It is true that they converts,
Illegally,
A cellar to an apartment
And that helps the young landlords
And the future tenant(s)

Yet talks of politics sound of experts’
And of everything as if…