Simon Perchik's extraordinary lyric talent is one of the best-kept secrets in Contemporary American poetry. Part of the reason for this shameful state of affairs stems, no doubt, from the relative difficulty of his verses, which refuse titles and operate in a war zone of murderous epiphanies that require a certain amount of patience and courage to confront. Metaphoric linkages can be elusive, especially on first reading, multiple levels of perception encouraged, pressured into new relationships. Process is all for Perchik, who has turned himself into almost pure imagination, purer than mere existence, to help us to reclaim our buried selves. -- Edward Butscher.
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