Peter Ganick


can you keep a secret?
the sequence of this secret is nothing but its own stating.
there is nothing behind or before it.
literature is not of its concern.
a grain of sand is mindstyle enough
for its intention to thrive.
can you keep a secret?

so, again, we wander streets, beaches—
anywhere there are tides from which
we can be harangued no lecture other than
that is offered & inscribed here.

can you keep a secret? we asked.
somewhere in an art magazine an artist wrote the first person singular pronoun and 
meant everybody.
so—why not use everybody’s pronoun—we.

Encomiums for A POETRY:

The monotonous experience of trudging thru everyday reading-scapes' disposable closures necessitates Ganick's POETRY of pure & precise chance (-taking) openwork. His detours reauthenticate via strides reshaping & strophes rebooting reading/living experience along paths of least resistance. Even as mountains are moved & walls walked thru, Ganick's manifold situations pathway supersonic turtles unleashing living/breathing panoramas' pointed loitering toward magnetic north as true north's derivations. Baudelaire's "botanist of the sidewalk", Ganick, breaking mama's backs & busting chops as any causeway-rooting ganglia plumber "on a routine walkabout" must, surgically roves his precision & polyphonic wondering, rollicking & astute, fine & dandy. Get his drift.

John Crouse

Peter Ganick's always sharp modalities have taken on a new register here. Space filters "things" with the emotions of light, discovery and ambiguity, as if "meaning" itself had become a music of silence. At one point Ganick declares "space emerges victorious"! Here we are reading a "poem" ("untitled poems for a wednesday evening") or the multiple variants of space between the lines or stanzas of the poem, as if we were going from sleep into eternity. Ganick's spare music engenders many ends without beginnings. Sun Ra reminds us "space is the place". And it is music we are hearing and waiting to hear in the midst of the intricate pauses, a jazz of distances and non-substantiation. A world where surfaces don't matter is a labyrinth of unheard music, a space of intervals and reverse mirrors. Is there a way to exit from the poem? Ganick suggest in the last line that "noon's steward invents ears."

ivan arguelles 

In A Poetry, Peter Ganick grapples with the universal questions of life from a perspective more personal than many of his other literary meditations. Opening with reflections on his father's passing and their final discussions about the nature of existence, Ganick’s inquiry examines life, philosophy and language through a free form exploration grounded in personal reflection but fueled with an alchemist's exalted vision of life’s cyclical transformation from lead to gold and back, revealed with as deft a grasp of its illusive nature as one can gain.

Vernon Frazer

Photobucket    Peter Ganick has published over 200 books of poetry. He was publisher of Potes & Poets Press, an important avant garde poetry press, from 1980-2000. Now he runs white sky books and supervises the blog ex-ex-lit.blogspot.com, a forum for experimental-experiental literature. He is active in the visual art field, having recently had a book of art criticism, 'thoughts on abstraction in art', accepted at the Barnes & Noble NOOK Bookstore. For a day job, he has been a piano instructor in the West Hartford CT area for 39 years. He lives in West Hartford with his wife, the artist, Carol Ganick.