Laird finds 'Purpose' in second collection

ON PURPOSE. By Nick Laird. Norton. 62 pages. $23.95.

Though various in its subjects, the second poetry collection by young Irish writer Nick Laird is strongly unified by its spare but passionate understatement. The voice rings true in these poems. The mind at work, poem by poem, is keenly observant, philosophical, unflinching.

The first poem, "Conversation," speaks of "my kind" versus "your kind," starting out with benign differences two groups of people might have but ending with a horrific example of what humans can do to one another. The book's emotional range moves wildly between that bleakness and the hope brought by love between two individuals.

The fourth section consists of poems about love and marriage, each one titled after a chapter in "The Art of War," an ancient Chinese military book. The poems themselves can turn expansive, as does "The Use of Spies," the last poem in the section. It opens up in time and space toward the end when the speaker, traveling on a flight across the ocean to see his lover, describes the light of dawn: "The way it broke continually from blue/to white was beautiful, like some fabled/giant wave that people travel years to catch."

Laird's poems are sometimes political, sometimes personal, without easy closure. The title "On Purpose," taken from a book on English usage, is based on a quote concerning prepositions: "Although you can do things on purpose, you do them by accident." In these poems, it becomes apparent that there is no defining line between what is purposeful in life and what is accidental. Also readily apparent is Laird's talent as a poet.