There Is A Song pouring Into My Glass Poem by Massoud Abolfathi

There is a song
Pouring into my glass
Somewhere in the Amol
Near the epicenter of a memory
Glorified in the middle of nowhere
In the midst of no thing
Of a thing that became nothing
A love full of no word
Wording in the plenitude of a city
Right here in the north of somewhere in the sum of many words
And then there is or was or will be some the where
In the land of no dead, in the land of no occupation
Not occupied a bit by him the self
Selfing itself the love of no self
A bit later a banana falling into his dreams of wordless words
Wording again and again the melody of no the same
Saming same the less poem
Sleeping like a baby in the poetry
Of him the self

Amol, Mazandaran province Iran
April 9th 2023