A HISTORY OF CHINA

Cassan–who has published several reference books on railroading as well as poetry collections–has created a volume of sharp-edged language and surreal logic.

There’s no cutesy sentimentality here, no navel-gazing and no lazy verbs or adjectives. In “Stars in Betrayal,” Cassan writes, “I like the knife of poetry/tiny dreams that scream in my face”–these 54 poems share a rigorous intellectual energy even at their most dreamy. Those in the first section, “A Classical Touch,” are somewhat impersonal, often dealing in abstractions. But even in a poem like “Nomadic Heart,” in which the author lays out his arguments most directly, he brings a sense of the music in poetry–“words, beads of words, / alive with the whiteness of phosphorous”–into lively play. Cassan’s interest lies in history and geography’s grand sweep. In “Rising,” he inhabits an argument between the Egyptian astronomer Ptolemy and a scholar called Ma’a Dewa who “believes that in the mind of every child lives / an encrypted sun, a jewel with a soft distant touch, the / light that lives within the glorious covenant, the / expectant song of eternal grace.” This image is lovely and ambitious, but the author can become overbearing, drunk on his words. Lines like, “At times, a deep inner universe, / an enchanted glass to see the heart / of the lunar orb” from “Luna” may grate on the reader with their pretentiousness and preciousness. The volume’s second section offers more personal poems on subjects like divorce and passion. The logic may be difficult to decipher, but the music flows, particularly in simpler poems like “I Called Softly” which begins, “Listen to the wooden cross on a windy knoll / a crooked cross with the arm held / by a single nail.” Elsewhere, Cassan nails down feelings and thoughts with ample humor–“Have you ever seen a knife hole / without any gore, / right at 33rd and MacDonald where most everybody / goes for girls and lollipops. Oh my!”

A genuine find for poetry buffs.