Nassy Fesharaki Poems

Alfalfa

It is rain, it is storm
Wind and gust take the soul
...

Yellow beaked it is black; spotty
Just left leg and alive; struggles
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Hell is left

Piece of food on the road
Abandoned
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Pride

Can-man was, little late
Passes by; he walks tall
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Nostalgia

As it was then
Chalks removed
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He wrote a poem
He wrote of feeling holes in tongue
Poetic ambiguity
“Your word’s a bullet in my tongue.”
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Sad;
The farm is
Run over by water
Sad;
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Rain again

Once again equinox
Normally time of rain
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What joy is in all this?

Tell me all about it
Long ago I heard some; of Nahid
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Pots lie

Pot too lies
This liar; double faced
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