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Over the night a bull

Whispers into a coal


:Unmeant in the stall to sit and plate,

But sixth, with all the senses,

To consume—

Incorporate—those signal

Impressions which are (we know) its fate:


In explosions, in hard strides,

His coattails fly; to bits, to friends

Craven and brave.


Sadness undulates at their back.


His lilt’s a cotillion of flies.


But how he charges, he commits!


Each to the next.


It seems unfair, a target lies

Between its shoulder blades.

And another whisps right back:

A drop of blood would pin back his wild hair

Which wanders as it wills

A sunset like acupuncture

from Great Guns Find more by Farnoosh Fathi at the library

Copyright © 2013 Farnoosh Fathi
Used with the permission of Canarium Books.

Published in Farnoosh Fathi Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.