Elevating this rich diction above pure ornament is the emotional precision with which he renders his various subjects, hieratic or homey, from the Parisian Salle des Martyrs to the sharp-billed anhinga. Early nouns bob in blunt fens.
Verbs browse electrically in mist , particles gnarl the stems of bulrush copulae.
In a pristine caldera of consonants, vowel-magma brims and virginal horizons spike cordilleras of speech. The poem, with its bequiling wordplay, attests to Ormsby's own control over the full character of English. Through their origins, in puns, and in metaphors, words pull double and triple duty. A Stevensian fecundity distinguishes these poems throughout, as does a fearlessness for pushing things to their seed-heavy, fertile limit. At night the dead set words upon my tongue, drew back their coverings, laid bare the long sheaths of their roots where the earth still clung . . .