Peg-Leg Frida Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Peg-leg Frida

Frida don't sleep; Sun's landed on my lap;
mountains soared to sky, dry's my mouth
Unpaved Riverbed, gravel road for mammoth,
it is bird; dinosaur is a king; is strange
Apocalypse... apocalypse... apocalypse
Your name is a kite having tail, line broke;
so lost I stop, I cry, I try 'please wake up'

My mustached Indian; smart-wild with brush
in your hand, your sister came, so Diego!
And your leg, from knee is absent, and in bed
you lie down, no canvas; far is your easel
Friends were flies ate honey; now on shit
Come and go for chitchats and plans are finished;
is silent of the artists, politics, murals,

Indian your red-wild body is all ignored,
Rivera, husband and mentor, is friend of brain.
I plea, don't sleep; Sun is back on your name;
that mountain is soaring to skies, in flight
Apocalypse... apocalypse... apocalypse
Let's seat, you and I for a chat, at table,
have coffee, banana and some pan. Past's gone.