NightofaThousand_Gaspar

Paperback Price: $13.95
Paperback ISBN: 978-1882295449


Selected Poem

Bright Wings



Then I was walking in the garden looking for the intermediaries
between me and the clear light. Clouds of gauzy gnats flew up
and drifted in the buttery air. I had left the green hose running
much too long, and the earth was quenched and sagging under
the sweet peas. And something had been chewing holes in
the ear-soft leaves of the morning glories. Then I saw for
the first time that the neighbor was growing corn. The yellow
shocks were leaning just above the cinder-block fence, and they
looked so delicate and scruffy, like city corn, like alien corn,
and suddenly there was so much to be done, so much to put
in order-not the ordinary business of living and dying, but
the ordinary business that comes bundled with them. Sunlight
behaved perfectly in every corner. The shadows breathed in their
one direction and told stories. The cat crouched in the flower bed
aching to kill something. What is a man to do in such a moment?
When he knows he’s being fooled by Heraclitean fire and all
those old and hopeful ideas about the moral jewel in beauty?
I mean in this day and age? I mean now when no one can even get
those equations to hold up anymore? And the ants had formed a black
ribbon that led to a dead snail. And the Pipers and Cessnas
and Beechcraft were circling for the airport with so much color
and precision. And the dogs two houses down heard the mail-
carrier’s foot and erupted. But this is not the answer I’m
looking for. And I have been lazy. Tangerines and lemons and
mandarin oranges have swollen and dropped from their impatient
branches. They lie among the fern and the vine, bruised and mushy.
They are being swarmed. They are being devoured

Night of a Thousand Blossoms


One of 12 books honored as the “Best Poetry of 2004” by Library Journal

“Gaspar’s poems look dense upon the page—and float like a thousand blossoms in the wind.”
Library Journal

“Gaspar’s long, prose-like lines—like translations from dreams—surround the reader with their capaciousness and flowing diction.”
Los Angeles Times Book Review

“[Frank Gaspar] is one of the best poets writing today.”
The Bloomsbury Review

“. . .one is carried upward by the cool, ineffable beauty [Gaspar’s poems] exude.”
Library Journal

“Gaspar is a genuine talent, a true poet, a real seeker. Trust him; his poems will take you on profound journeys.”
Booklist

“Frank Gaspar’s poems are agile and forceful, their narratives clear and absorbing. In them he is speaking to the reader—but also to himself, or perhaps to some hazy divinity, or to the blue sky. I felt in his voice no attempt to persuade me of anything. I felt only the abiding imperative to get it right. Which is, of course, what real writing is all about.”
—Mary Oliver

“No one in America writes as Frank Gaspar does. His poetic voice is distinctive. His poems mutter and fuss in the tone of the sage awake and singing through the night to worry, as we do, the state of the soul in contemporary life. Father, lover, scholar, friend, and poet, he speaks for us as no one else can. And I for one am grateful for this fabulous book.”
—Hilda Raz

“Any book that begins with a poem titled ‘I Go Out for a Smoke and Become Mistaken for the Archangel’ and ends on the sentence ‘And so I kicked and kicked’ is bound to contain grand evolutions, and Gaspar delivers. The path he so often weaves—from questions, through catalog of pathetic fallacies, to abstracted answers—can be a stunning rhetorical tapestry….Gorgeous.”
Provincetown Arts

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