From Library Journal
"A word is coming up on the screen, give me a moment," says San Francisco poet Palmer, author of five volumes of experimental poetry. For Palmer, language ("dumb words mangled by use") is useless as a description of nature, instead serving as a construct that shows how imagination works: "In the dream the tree was first a word." Disparate images of walls, rooms, empty houses, clouds, and unidentified people comprise Palmer's multi-dimensional aesthetic vision. Severe and philosophical, like the works of surrealist Andre Breton, Palmer's poetry is for those who admire abstract art, words (the world) as forms of consciousness, nature altered by perceptual confusion. It intrigues with its opaque, dreamlike sequences. Frank Allen, Allentown Coll., Center Valley, Pa.
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