Max Layton

Since the author's last book of poems was entitled Like, it seems only fitting that this new collection of fifty poems should be called Love. But, more importantly, these are the poems of an old man looking back at the people he has known and the life he has led whose memory, no matter how painful, he still cherishes. From childhood to adulthood to a suite of poems contemplating the author's inevitable death, Love can be summed up as a meditation on mortality and the transitory nature of everything we think we have accomplished - including, ironically, this book.

Like consists of fifty poems every one of which uses the word "like." Like is about people and things Layton likes -- or, sometimes, dislikes. In these poems, Layton expresses a gamut of emotions, from the fear of death to the peaceful contentment of watching two nesting Canadian geese. However, "like" is more than an emotionally charged verb. It is also the basis of simile. It is by likening one thing to another that Layton finds meaning in ordinary things. Since all things are alike in some way, Like is a book of poetry about the underlying unity of all creation.

Although every poem in this book begins with the same first three words, each is a world unto itself. The poems range in subject from the intensely personal to the profoundly philosophical. Some poems are funny, some deadly serious; some filled with whimsy, some with horror. Stylistically, some poems relish the challenge of metered rhyme while others delight in the loopy unpredictable music of free verse.