Iranian Interlude

Chance took me once

to Persia

an exotic destination,

even then

I recall a marriage proposal

by the uncle of a man

I had seen only once.

I recall sitting cross-legged on a Persian carpet

to eat roast chicken,

and a woman crouching on the floor

in the kitchen preparing dinner,

passing the Shah’s palace in search of ice cream

while I considered my marriage proposal,

sleeping on the floor

beneath a bench in a train,

mosques that foreigners were forbidden to enter

turquoise markets

prolific gun markets.

College girls in kilts,

giggling

a woman wearing purdah

watching Ed Sullivan

dubbed in farsi

an enigma wrapped

in an enigma

Allah ou akbar