Teenage Kids - Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
In the mall, we see chairs, and tables
Someone wears leather hat, a western
He is thin as Fonda, not John Wayne.
In his place my friend, shoe-key-shop
In his past, some dentist, does claim
He fixes watch, suitcase, also locks.
I want him to read books, be in time
First agreed; but today he rolls eyes:
“You forgot all about child and wife.”
Then revealed story of last night:
“Went home late …” now is sharp
Like cat in an attack to catch mice.
I sit right; look at him; shaking lips;
Annoyed and angry, shows his chin.
Wide open his two eyes, not a wink.
“At the door two young girls…”
Explains, then he describes in detail:
“Were friends, ”…”My daughter’s.”
As he says, the basement was full of
Sixteen-year-youngsters, boys and girls
Neither he, was asked nor, the mother.
“You want me…” he says and, in his eyes
I can read caves of pains: “kids are nuts…”
He looks dead; cold as nuns, cathedrals’.
His face talks, no need for having mouth
Words come out as do birds, jumping out
Of a nest to branch or lower, from height.
Shout and fight dragged him to basement
He had the hardest time to get kids’ attention
One had been full-drunk, on carpet the vomit.
I told him clear: “this is what we have done.
We stood against the old culture and system
We rebelled and shouted: You cruel dictators.
Our account in the bank is now rich, interest, ”
I told him many times, there and then…
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