Tour Guide Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Tour guide

No notice
Door opened
Angel came
Scrolled the pamphlet:
"Soon they will (Nostrils)
Be still as steel
Nose tips, lips will not move
Won't inhale, nor exhale
No change by the smell
In sadness and the joy
No room for tear drops,
(Excess, less.)
Nostrils will remain concrete
Then after? "

Angel left rest for thoughts:
When buried worms and rats
Anything…

Then went on:
"No worries
This is called end of trip
You start new tours."