Tuesday, June 18, 2013


    .. The coming rain
    for rain. The boy to laugh and make

    me chase him from the garden. The garden
    for the moon to find. This land for work
    which makes us whole, which holds for us
    the days and holds away the dark.

Since Hesiod at least, you were
about to say, poets have been
writing about our experience with
the land, and in this time, there
has been abundant opportunity for
the germination of cliché. It does
not seem that Nathaniel Perry has
on this relationship, but for one
who abides with a bit of it around
him, a consciousness of participat-
ing in our long extraction from it
leads to a gathering kind of awe.
And for this it is agreeable, for
there to be those who can puncture
it, with imagery of immediate reli-
ability. There are lines in the po-
em extracted here, which I'm reluc-
tant to spill, so sure am I of the
pleasure of making their discovery
in the old-fashioned way. But it
may do no harm, to cite a further
tool from his kit, which is basic
to the necessary accident of stum-
bling upon irreducible experience.

    A pen-knife for a splinter.

Nathaniel Perry
Nine Acres

Gerhard Richter
Unidentified canvas

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