Range Finder

“I have nowhere to go / that isn't automatically written language.” Is there such a thing as surrealist meditation? Non-narrative autobiography? In David Perry's elusive yet eminently chaseable poems, “hallucinations prowl the baseboards and molding, never to see in themselves any sense except subliminally.” Under shifting, disjunctive surfaces, Perry examines self, history and language, reminding us of the insupportability of each. He talks to obelisks, untethers aspirations and assesses our “awful haircuts,” all with a charming nod.