In the New Place, or Exile, a Simple Matter

Reza Baraheni

In the new place you don’t speak of yourself
                  your feet facing the front
                           you tread backwards with needles in your throat
The etched plot was there before you suddenly stepped in
The old place walks ahead of you
                  someone claps his hands and then you have two husbands
                  one forgetting you, the other not remembering
The distance walks away with you
                  both in the new country, and the old country
You gather the leaves, stuffing them into your ears
                  and pull up the blindfold, fearing you will be raped in the eyes
You buy a new set of false teeth
           and write your brother at home to mail you a brand new false
           mouth
Instead, he sends you Discourses of Shams of Tabriz, Rumi’s mentor,
Because time is ripe to write the Third Script:
           The one neither the scribe nor the reader will understand
“Shines
in the mind of heaven    God
who made it
more than the sun
in our eye.
Fifth element; mud; said Napoleon”
After the explosion into incomprehension
                  the unimpossible beauty you might call it
                           (two negations equaling not affirmation
                           but running the whole gamut of endless negation)
Pound dissolves words into meanings, and Shams says:
                                                                              don’t, I say
But after the first four lines of Canto LI, Pound has already missed the point
                     you hear him reading the rest of the poem
                              four sets of false teeth blocking breath’s rush to the mouth,
                     giving reference and preference to history,
                                              missing the point once again

You are after Walter Benjamin’s fasting man
                   but who is fasting here?
You want to tell someone or write somewhere
                   that you find affinities between Shams and Benjamin too
both of them are pre-Adamite hermaphrodites in sudden languages
It hurts that no one knows
You buy a small bouquet of flowers
You’re going to see your new boss
                  clinging to the precipice of his Imperial desk
And everyone is in search of something here
                  they call it competence, and you call it
                           the salad dressing of the new malady
They say you ought to have eye contact with everyone
                            you have it with the beasts
                                       why not with humans?

And you are the new talk of centuries
                          both the old and the new
                          and you have hoisted both of themon your shoulders

All hurt minds of both dark hemis
                                               pheres
                                                        broke down into exile
                          at home or abroad, etching with broken wrists
                          what Benjamin called “a charmed circle of fragments.”
And your small bouquet of flowers laughs at your hypocrisy
          you toss it away and you watch
                  until it gets tossed back at you

Suddenly the word ‘obfuscation’ comes between you and the boss
                  you see him sleeping while you are speaking,
                      eye contacting     And the birds in the yard
                                      chirp away in frenzy, laughing at you
And you start telling your boss of the “fasting man
                                                    who tells his dream as if…”
You stop, the boss is sleeping and you are scared
                           scared that he will suddenly snore
And you won’t know what to do with the malady of both centuries,

The birds have stopped singing
                  He wakes up as soon as you stop
                  and says: “don’t, don’t bother the snoring, if I snore,
                  I’m still listening.”
And he closes his eyes, and you tell him about the word ‘obfuscation,’
To decipher the obliterated cipher of your being and his
And “the fasting man who tells his dream as if he were…”
He suddenly wakes up and says: “be sure I’ll do something about it,
                          but competence, don’t forget competence…”
And Walter Benjamin says: “a charmed circle of fragments.”

I was not asking for money.
It soils the hand that gives
                            and the hand that takes
                            but I don’t tell him, I need a job, a better job, for
                            sure
And this is not the question. I’m trying to have the eye contact going
                            And I gauge competence
For this you need a new sort of concentration
Like the one you had when you were being born
Passing through someone in blood and puss, deaf and blind
                                     the concentration of a solid constipation
                                     a towering, excruciating empire of constipation
And then somebody slapping you hard, screaming ‘obfuscation!’
And you opening your eyes to the world, recognizing
                                               that the boss has no snoring habits
He has the unfortunate habit of sleeping soundly only, yes only…
           —this I won’t tell you— but here it is anyway;
                            only, when a writer in exile speaks
You don’t know the new country for sure
                            and now you hardly know the old one either
And you start again, with your only strength in the argument:
                  “The fasting man who tells his dream as if he were talking…”
And the boss wakes up: “don’t stop, I’m listening!”
                            “But Sir, you’re interrupting, I haven’t stopped yet!”
I’m passing through mud and puss, deaf and blind
He sleeps now like a baby in a cradle
                                    on the grass on top of a cliff by the coast
          and the waves rolling with the white foam of their whales down
          there

“As I was saying…” I begin
And I stop in Benjamin’s “charmed circle of fragments.”
“I am not from this country, you know. I am just talking about
‘the fasting man who tells his dream as if he were talking in his sleep.
Comprenez?” This is a country with two official languages!”
But there is some kind of innocence in this man’s guilt
                 as there is some kind of guilt in my innocence.

Now, I am all ready for action.
I put my left hand in my pocket
                                    slowly,
                                    sexually
                                    surreptitiously
Remember Benjamin: “Your strength lies in improvisation.
               All the decisive blows are struck left-handed.”
I open the blade of my knife in my pocket as he sleeps
                          take out the knife
               the baby, oh, the baby, in a cradle on the grass
               on top of a cliff by the coast, and the whales down there in the waves
I need a test: is he awake when he is awake?
               Is he asleep when he is asleep?
               Is he awake when he is asleep
               Is he asleep when he is awake?
               Is he he?
So language tells you things that reality doesn’t tell you
I decide: I’ll wake him up by telling him a funny story:

The woman says, you cannot do that here, it’s impossible. She
cannot help laughing. The old man is holding something
between his two hands. Kids passing by don’t notice it. It’s
only the shrewd eyes of the old woman that notices the veinstricken
hands of the man holding it between them. Then she
says he shouldn’t be ashamed of himself. He is genuine.
Artistic. Look at the young generation: they don’t even know
how to hold it between their hands! She gets going, but after a
minute she turns back to tell him he can hold it like that for as
long as he wants to. But he has turned his back to her. And she
doesn’t find the hairy back interesting at all. And then suddenly

she sees the front and back of the man at the same time, and

her own face with all the wrinkles reflected in the mirror,
facing both of them.

Is this the “charmed circle of fragments, Benjamin?” I scream
And when the boss wakes up to sneeze ‘obfuscation!’
                 —dear reader or listener!
                 “Hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable—mon froere!—
                 If you want to take a leak, please feel free to get up and go
                          and do so
                 This is not a practice in suspense poetry

I thrust the knife, with the same left hand
                          drive it to the hilt into the heart
And fall supine before him, when he is rising
                  not to call an ambulance,
                  but to answer the telephone that started ringing
                                                   a minute before I was dead.

 

 

 

Toronto, August 30, 2003

Notes:

  1. The six lines from Ezra Pound belong to Canto LI, The Cantos of Ezra Pound (A New Direction Book, New York, Eighth Printing, 1981), P.250.

  2. The quotations from Walter Benjamin are:

    “The fasting man tells his dream as if he were talking in his sleep.”

    “Charmed circle of fragments.”

    “There are days when no one should rely unduly on his ‘competence.’ Strength lies in improvisation. All the decisive blows are struck lefthanded.”

    They come from his selection called “One-Way Street” in Walter Benjamin Reflections, ed. by Peter Demetz (New York, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1978), PP. 62, 64 and 65. The Benjamin quotations are sometimes used in a fragmented form.

  3. The French line is from Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal, meaning:
    “Hypocrite reader, my image, my brother!”