The Parable of Fire

Readers who relished the energy and exuberance of much of Reiss's last volume, Express, may find the reflective and sometime dour tone of this collection disconcerting. Reiss explores various topics and situations, using the conceit of ""the fire storm [that], with every intention/ of blackening trees and singeing the moon,/ maps out a myth whose meaning is written on water."" From the dark ruminations of ""Castrati in Caesar's Court (""Now I hide behind smiles"") and ""Memorial Quilt, Central Park"" (""the dust, which was a grasshopper caught in the throats/ of singers who tried to inspire the crowd but ended up croaking/ like frogs"") to the hard-boiled nostalgia of ""Mexico"" (""and when he finishes speaking she knows/ she loves him well enough/ to tell him only lies""), Reiss imagines himself into situations rich with the bitterness of loss or deprivation. The volume concludes on a positive note, however, with one of Reiss's best poems, ""Eclipse the Dark/ My Fiftieth Birthday: July 11, 1991,"" in which his fear of aging and death is transformed into a celebration of ""the light which surrounds us/ and comes from within us""--a conclusion that confirms the close attention Reiss pays the world in even the collection's darkest explorations. (Mar.)