Frank X. Gaspar’s collection of poems is haunted by the presence of mystics and Mohammed, Buddha, St. Paul, Augustine, George Herbert, Emily Dickinson, Blake, Milton, Rilke. A Field Guide to the Heavens is punctuated with designs of science, the wondering and rapt observations of the sky made at the eyepiece of a backyard telescope. We come to know Gaspar’s city streets, the neighbors and strangers that walk them, the wreckage of past lives, the ocean, the gardens, the orchards and alleys and parking lots, all spread out under the vast sky.
The first poem of Gaspar's I read was the fantastic you can't be a star in the sky without holy fire. Unfortunately there were none in this book I loved *quite* as much, but it still had some lines I liked enough to write down, particularly in his poems about summer mania.
Not unlike Larry Levis, Gaspar writes poetry that leaps gracefully from one subject matter to the next, using swirling syntax and a wry, self-referential tone.