Wesleyan University Press, 272 pp., $7.95
The poems of David Ignatow are wry, they are about ordinary working life, and yet they are continually overlaid with a wisdom that is not so much from experience as from courage and intelligence. He might be called an urban Robert Frost, showing on the surface a simple soul, but beneath is always the finely honed blade of a witty, cynical, very perceptive and knowing man. I always hate to invoke the name of Frost in discussions of contemporary literature, since he is now so much out of vogue. But I will not cater to narrow minds on the subject of poetry.
Review, 1546 words
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