Jack London Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Jack London

Years ago, in my teens
Was bookworm, liked to read;
Collected the abridged
Of most of classics…

Favourite among them
Was great Jack London.

I read books in my way;
Politics were absent
From mind, behaviour
(No thought of USA, Soviets!)

He wrote of westward move
And ego and abuse,
Of people and nature, animals.

Angered me to see dogs
Tortured to satisfy
The master as the guard
Or machine to pull up…

Joyful was reading of uniting
The dog with wolf cousin
Felt heard them both howling.

Now, look back and compare
Pets becoming members
Of the house-family
While ignored are
The kids of migrants in marching
Africans, and Afghans, Iraqis
By the best and richest country
Which is built on blood of labour
Of the poor, in and out, everywhere.

Miss London, Steinbeck and others
Like Pond and Mayakovski, George Orwell.

Wish could talk with Gorky and Great Akhmatova
About life and long lines of my time…day by day!