Poems

Tehran Letter

This postman
Put in my palm
A little sky and a few stars and a bit of greetings
Repeatedly walked to number 49 and returned
To see where the river that doesn’t exist pours
The sound of the bird who sat behind the window
Poured into the middle of the room
If you open the window
You’ll see the third line
In one of the letters I forgot to write
They came and killed and burnt
They took away that same third line
The postman wrote on the envelope
No news on the western Andisheh 2

16 March 2002

Tehran, North Sohrevardi Road, West Andisheh 2 St.

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