Comics Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

In class
Like a lamb
(Hung by legs, cut its neck, torn open and skinned)
Powerless; I am hung by the words, divided, specialized.

“Comic is marriage of the word and image.”

“But that is! ” I raised hand.

The reply is simple, “Specialized”.

Like the men in the caves
(Yes, old days)
I sit, think.
Watch the shades on the walls.
(By the flames and smoke)
In my mind
I see rock break, fall
And it rolls and it rolls and it rolls
(Down the hill to a river and there on)
And it wears to pebble and then sand.

Comic too changed by time,
Meant funny long ago, but no more;
Means cartoon; redefined.