Heirs Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Heirs

What a fight
As if is Hercules
Like Atlas
Like Rostam
Like the witch
(Candy-house)

He has died
(In the mosque)
One of far relatives
Brother to husband
(Of the aunt)

Curator to a mosque
(Lorzadeh)

Not married and no child.

Much is said of carpet
(Sweeping underneath)
Politics, history, and trash

He did so with money
Both in bills and in change
Till the time he bought house
And still collecting his habit
It went on…

Now the fight is around
What was his, who takes it…

Shit is life
When like his
And his heirs’
(Jackal, Rats)