Peter Sacks traverses morally charged landscapes in poems reminiscent of Rilke and Celan. Through the lens of Peter Sacks's actual journey from a strife-torn South Africa to a haunted and spiritually frayed America, Necessity travels from remembered heights unblemished by time's weight, through deserts laden by the debris of our mad dreamsprogress, conquest, salvationto arrive at the waters of communal memory, values, and love.
The poems are too fragmented almost as if they were random images taken from dreams. The book also lacks a sense of unity even within its sections. I much prefer Sacks' works as a painter. I can even see more poetry in them.