Orphic Noise

Poetry. The first lines of Patrick Pritchett's brilliant and beautiful new book suggest this world as his Eurydice, lost but not lost, 'its noise a form of shelter.' A world to be recovered not only in the language translated from that noise, but allied in memory with contemporaries both living and dead. His poems and homages meditating on love, family and craft create and define 'the hope of being lit.' They have empowered this poet to a deep, granular, attentive listening in which 'every streetlight's a comma longing to complete the supernatural grammar of the sentence.'--Michael Heller