Some Words: Poems

Bronk, who won the American Book Award in 1982 for Life Supports , continues to be one of the most prolific and original voices in American letters. ``Now, I'm content to say how once it was,'' he ends one of the brief poems that fill this slim volume. Unfortunately, the book does not show the aging poet at his best. Since his earliest work, this master craftsman has struggled to balance word and thought, and here the latter takes precedence: ``We don't get a chance to value reality''; ``The first premise of prayer is we be apart / from the prayed-to. . . '' Yet even though the language here is less finely honed than readers have come to expect from Bronk, these Zen-like pieces (often a mere two or three lines) philosophize without preaching. Reverberating long after the book is closed, they prove the age-old maxim that less is more. One complete poem reads: ``Come into the poem, reader. The door will close / itself behind you. You can leave whenever you will.'' These words provide the clearest insight into what Bronk asks from his ever larger and more devoted audience. (Dec.)