Poetry. LITTLE LOW HEAVEN describes a world of isolation and beauty, art and prophecy, loss and yearning. In his tender yet terrible reading of the human condition, Anthony Butts has become a poet of pain and sorrow and, finally, of the barest budding of hope.
Beautiful and sometimes painful ruminations on love, sexuality, faith, art, and the human condition. Grandiose as Rilke at times, gritty as Ginsberg at others, using both abstract thoughts and concrete imagery to powerful effects. A good example, from “Machine”:
Outside of town, thousands of frogs chortle And whistle like the frantic sirens and screams Of an apocalypse, but only the theaters Are full. Aliens have invaded the earth
Once again. We are never alone, not even The man who pulls his wife closer in bed To keep her silent….
And from “Lake of the Spirits”:
Things of this world can be broken. The boy in the mirror Wears mirrored sunglasses. He calls
The clear piss in the toilet “The Lake of the Spirits.” The water sparkles like dead ponds where chemicals