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The Field
Robert Andrew Perez




Omnidawn
2016 • 64 pp. 5 1/2 x 7"
Poetry / Poetry - Gay & Lesbian / Poetry - American

$11.95 Paperback, 978-1-63243-029-8



The Field by Robert Andrew Perez traces the “I” across a
constellation of lyric psychodramas, the voice navigating the traumas of embodiment and the impulses
... [continued in Reviews below]”—Publishers Weekly

A debut collection of lyric psychodramas

The Field traces the I across a constellation of lyric psychodramas, where the voice navigates the daily traumas of embodiment and the force majeure of the out-of-body experience. At its center, this first collection from Robert Andrew Perez is a curation of the perils of love in an age of persistent angst, or the virtues of love from a persistently anxious mind. This I in crisis posits itself in a multitude of lyric containers, vibrating in the tension of terror and ecstasy’s diametric vectors through the curses of memory, emotion and contemplation.

Click here for TABLE OF CONTENTS

Reviews / Endorsements

"The Field by Robert Andrew Perez traces the “I” across a
constellation of lyric psychodramas, the voice navigating the traumas of embodiment and the impulses of the out-of body experience. Perez’s debut addresses the perils of love in an age of persistent angst, or the virtues of love from a persistently anxious mind."—
Publishers Weekly

“As a whole, Robert Andrew Perez's The Field is a dexterous manifesto of a self doing battle with the raw wit of the universe. These are vital poems of peerless originality. Perez's voice is distinctive and true as he leads us to reflect on sexuality, race, and gender in new and uplifting ways.”—Sonja James, Journal News

“Perez plays desire and its contingent emotions—ecstasy, obsession, anxiety—off of one another in this intimate debut collection, a lyrical portrait of 21st-century love, lovers, and loving...The poems address the reader, romantic partners, and the possibilities of telling love stories through poetry’s ability to assemble moments of solitude into expanses of vacancy and longing. Some of the book’s best lines come when love is displaced from the speaker’s mind by distraction, disquiet, or depression.”
Publishers Weekly

“A country without capital, the field is not a physical place but the gravitational force exerted by relationships. Tragedy and comedy sleep fitfully, side by side, in these poems. Filled with games and riddles, imbued with dream logic, it is a book of erasures and steganography (the hiding of secret messages in ordinary texts) ... the field is a remarkable first book, embracing the lofty & mundane, the holy & the wholly profane...”—NCIBA

From the Book:

erasure
my friends are writing poems for/about their kids, and here i am
still writing about fucking guys and fucking losing guys and fucking
loser guys and fucking loose guys, fucking losing loose, loser
guys. i do write about milk, but not breast milk. i’m more like

that dancing milk carton from the coffee and tv music video—at the end
i float to heaven with a strawberry milk carton, underscored by organ
music, except it’s hell. pre-fire, that is to say before the kiln, the shape
of the vase fully formed. formed fully and undone, my state, figuratively,

is pre-fire. i carry the threat of combustion; all i need is sapphire.
let’s think back to seeing nicole richie in a papasan in the westwood
urban outfitters. she corroborates my impulse to buy a blue jacket
i’ll never wear, but in that moment i feel the burn of stardom. no one

knows me or nicole anymore. the preeminent callipygian, kim kardashian,
smatters minstrelsy on paper. destiny’s progeny has a name for this:
jelly. we eat pulverized bone. purple is a flavor and grape is never
funny. with everything falling apart, why can’t the monolith of patriarchy?

just because i care, i can never write a good poem for womyn. i watch
shonda rimes because i care about race and gender. because i love soap.
to drop it. before i knew erasure did it first, i assumed wheatus wrote
the lines: i try to discover a little something to make me sweeter.

oh baby refrain from breaking my heart. anything successfully invisible is
also indelible. therefore i love him not. something partly loved, then,
is able to be smeared and eventually wiped clean away. the children
i never have and the poems i never write, therefore, i fully love them.

Awards/Recognition:

Runner-up for the Northern California Book Awards (2017)


ROBERT ANDREW PEREZ lives in Berkeley. He is an associate editor for speCt!, a letterpress imprint based out of Oakland, where he also curates readings. He is a recipient of a Lannan prize and a Lambda Literary fellow. Recent work can be found in The Awl, Omniverse, DIAGRAM, and The Laurel Review



Sat, 2 Dec 2017 12:19:16 -0500