Public Survey

By NILUFAR KARIMI

Public surveillance footage of Tehran, Iran, depicting street stones

Tehran, Iran, through public surveillance footage

all begins slowly like anything else. night. two birds walk together through a cobblestone alley.
the rooster first, then the hen. if I were to invert this order, begin again. there is a pile of bags

a pile of white cloth sacks. the objects transform themselves as I write. two bicycle
tires over the sacks to restrain them. a waiting for the image to come from darkness.

then what happens on the same street everywhere. people and livestock move horizontally across
a path behind a structure where there is a gate. several people are livestock. one person is human.

chickens behind gates and people behind each dressed in white or they are white cattle. beyond,
a street sign a green pasture a mountain range.

Public surveillance footage of Tehran depicting a green car

Nilufar Karimi is an Iranian American poet and translator. Her works have appeared in publications such as World Literature Today,West Wind Review and Alchemy Journal of Translation.

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Public Survey

Related Posts

February 2026 Poetry Feature: Fatimah Asghar and Shane Moran

FATIMAH ASGHAR
i cursed the frog / that found its way into / my house. murderous, i laid / poison for the ants. i threw / my moon in the trash. / when he cheated, i wished / him a hall of mirrors. / doomed to endless versions / of him. i prayed they’d undo / each other. & they did. i took / from the earth without permission."

Mountain, Stone

LENA KHALAF TUFFAHA
Do not name your daughters Shaymaa, / courage will march them / into the bullet path of dictators. / Do not name them Sundus, / the garden of paradise calls out to its marigolds, / gathers its green leaves up in its embrace. / Do not name your children Malak or Raneem, / angels want the companionship

Book cover of suddenly we

Poems from suddenly we by Evie Shockley

EVIE SHOCKLEY
one vote begets another / if you make a habit of it. / my mother started taking me / to the polls with her when i / was seven :: small, thrilled / to step in the booth, pull / the drab curtain hush-shut / behind us, & flip the levers / beside each name she pointed / to, the Xs clicking into view. / there, she called the shots / make some noise.