Hey Girl Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Hey girl

Bayview is no more Bay's View
-but still I drive on asphalt
-going south to Sheppard
-I stop behind a long red-light

Pedestrians' south-to-north; zebra line
-has a guest…a nymphet, Aphrodite

I give her a name that
-never say, never hears

Just "Hey girl! "

"Hey girl who wears dark shades, "
-I tell her and stare
-cannot turn head or car
-I am boxed, cannot walk

"Hey girl who has beige hat; straw…"
-I murmur with no sound
-can hear my heartbeat
-she has me hypnotised

"Hey, you girl who must be short on cash, "
-I look at her toes and can see sole
-then climb to ankles, sheen to bone
-and her knees, further up

With measure in my mind
-calculate the size of her textile
-feel seller in bazaar, advertise
- "Hey lady…" I tell her

"This is good…" I lift it
-with fingers, I touch it
-it is soft and is thin,
-and almost see through

"This matches girl like you…"
-I point at the rose and the bud
-flowers on textile that is white

She walks on in the sun
-like cables in the town
-two wires find a way
-her ears to the chest

The cloth I measure is small
-not even a meter overall
-sleeveless and open cleavage
-above knee, skirt is near hips,

I pray that light fails
I pray things go wrong
I pray time stops
We freeze, all of us

Right here
As we are

She is a flower
-single, best in garden
-knife and sword her steps
-my heart meat, chunk, useless

Need Nader
-Great King of Afshars
-his ego, jealousy, patriarch
-to take a heated rod…

Blind me as he did with own son…

Crippled are hands, feet
-broken, shattered, heart
-she is thorn in my eyes
-and the chest her target…

Want Peter of Russia, Romanov
-to hide me behind wall of a fort
-want to be member of the rebels
-in Paris and lose life, guillotine

To such a dynamite
-am ready to give life