Brecht Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Brecht

In my room, at table
Many books, much paper
With my eye walk through
Each; all words add anger
Because of, Bert Brecht
He roams with each title
Sits next to most genres
Feeds every brainer

Then look round in a rack,
CIA’s documents on Brecht
Politicians who are dogs
Shamelessly selling heart
Sunflowers in their farm
Found in him a suspect
He busy with knowledge
Demystifying; Modern

I feel like I’m donkey
Bridle around my neck
My jacket, a saddle
Giving ride to shaman
The monkey, politician
Heading for the palace
A congress; parliament