With A Call Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

With a call

Made a call on way home
to friend to see him
insisted to meet him
in a seat I joined them
all of us raised goblets.

She, hostess to my eyes
I bowed her in her house,
on her chest two melons
out of size and for show
were naked except parts
squeezed in bra

Her place seemed too rich
but belongs to Co-ops.

A convert from Islam
her church helped
not to pay high rental

Question is her income…
young men of here, there
those who need soft flesh
and she has quite much.

She, mother and ex-wife
has nothing as an art
but what sells indirect
with drinks, gifts received
changing men in her bed

Poor Honey, her daughter
as a child sees, observes
what she does; no power
but to say: "I want food."
and mother does not move
men to her…preferred.

I saw it and learned more
with torture without joy.