The Eighth Continent

The poems in this quiet, somewhat bland, debut collection detail Boes's experience as a lover, husband, father and son. More observational than insightful, the poet rarely delves into the depths of his heart to tell us what it truly feels like to be in love, to be intimate with another person, to be a parent. Of the sexual passion that exists between him and his lover after a day at the beach Boes writes: ``by the afternoon starlight / of lowered shade and flamingo-covered sheets / it's easy to take off our clothes--my kiss / followed by your kiss and button by frayed breath--.'' Other poems ostensibly about deep feeling are similarly dull. Boes likens his daughter to a hummingbird and hopes she may ``never lose the stork bites on her brow / or the patience to feed the mockingbird.'' To his credit, the poet's images are fluid and unpretentious, and his metaphors are sometimes strikingly original: ``The hot sun on this stopped boat reminds me-- / your body under mine is what keeps me afloat.'' Yet, the volume as a whole gives us the sense that Boes has excised all of the really joyous and painful parts of his life, leaving us with a clinical view of life and love. (Nov.)