Beware Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Beware



There are times
Hemingway comes to me with his gun
And Plath with her shouts
I see her; ‘Virginia'
Handing me a big rock

When I run of myself,
Calling me: 'dangerous'
I see Poe and others
All drunk; Unconscious
Some have died already
Others are on the way

'What is this literature? '
I cried to Pushkin:
'I see them with morphine.'
Range of drugs; and Sabbah
Rubbernecks Jim Hendrix
Fat, ugly is ‘The King'.

Ay people of heart, mind
I deserve a madhouse
I have lost ‘Great Shams'
I'm friend of ‘Hallaj'
Khosrow led me; guided
Take me back to Babk
He resides in Tabriz

Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: literature
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