Beth Roberts
poems are en route and restless, glimpsing, as they do, what it is the
century requires. Such glimpses take hard work with a steadying lens and
the willingness to stop abruptly, to implicate oneself in the brief, severe
clarity that a lens frames. Throughout her impressive first collection, Roberts
fights to keep the fine synaptical snap of perception alive amidst the worlds
relentless desire for a long attenuating history. Of course, to
count the cost of true sight and the worth of our hours requires a stubborn
belief in language, that spectrum of decision she calls it. It is
her original and serious play with this spectrums wide swerves, its echoes
and vortices, seductions and groundings, that compels readers to believe as
well.
Lia Purpura