Zoetrope

a poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Every day

is a day all new to be, learn

or recall what went on not knowing, unaware.

This is one.

I was a child

Six? Seven?

Little more?

Dad took me to Tehran

detrained not say hello to everyone

and much more

I heard the other kids call me names

blame it on accent.

Like a mouse seeing cat

shivered and was afraid Mahmood came, brother

he was love and my boss took care but very tough and beat me as if dog…

Other kids, of Tehran

rich, spoiled, better life went played; and school

also could go and watch Zoetrope

It is right of the need

mothering inventions

I found time and money and went, watched.

The man told stories

photos changed.