LOOK, BY SOLMAZ SHARIF
Solmaz Sharif begins her first collection, LOOK, with the line: “It matters what you call a thing: Exquisite a lover called me. / Exquisite.” As its unifying conceit, Sharif takes the 2007 Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms and weaves the declassified language of the United States Department of Defense into her poems, highlighting the absurd and grotesque ways language can be used to conceal, mock, control and subvert, just as it can be repurposed to unmask, dignify and communicate.
look—(*) in mine warfare, a period during which a mine circuit is receptive of an influence.
The titular poem ends: “Let it matter what you call a thing. / Let it be the exquisite face for at least 16 seconds. / Let me LOOK at you. / Let me LOOK at you in a light that takes years to get here.”
Each of Sharif’s poems stand alone. They glitter with sharp edges—shards of memory and black humor that wink at the reader—while the darker barbs are addressed to the more sinister, lumbering powers that are always listening in (“I say Hello NSA when I place a call / : somewhere a file details my sexual habits / : some tribunal may read it all back to me”). Still, the effect of the book as a whole is something to behold. LOOK is bold in both its indictments and intimacies. It lets neither the reader, nor the political establishment off the hook.