The Rubaiyat of Omar Karastan

My world lies flat, beneath their feet
Where soles aplenty do I greet
And cleanse of dirt, though not of sin.
I'm cleaned more harshly, being beat.

I'm pounded all about my skin.
Take several on my fuzzy chin.
I'm laid outside to catch my chill
With many of my closest kin.

Here is Rashid, my cousin Bill,
And Nicholas, who's from Brazil
(And woven rather slovenly—
His nap's susceptible to pill).

Now freed of dirt and such debris,
I'm laid before the hearth. You see,
Because I'm Persian and not cheap,
I'm fire-retardant, guaranteed.

My pile is lovely, dark and deep.
But I have warranties to keep,
And miles go slow beneath their feet,
And miles I go before I sleep.



Survivor Poetry Contest
Trigger 17, Form X (Rubaiyat)