Lost Country

Actor and playwright Howell opens this collection of poetry with an engaging short-story-like piece about his experience in a psychoneurotic ward of an army hospital where he was sent after being AWOL for 15 months. Using the tragedy of the Vietnam War as a backdrop, Howell keenly observes the interplay between the weak and the strong, wryly commenting on the struggles for power among men and nations. With its colorful cast of characters and its piquant narrative details, the two poems that make up this piece are a hard act to follow. Indeed, many of the shorter poems in the collection feel truncated. Returning to long form, part three of this collection affords readers the bittersweet opportunity of watching a relationship between the poet and a younger woman bloom and wither. ``He knows how it feels to be driving fast,'' Howells writes. ``He remembers a lot of what it feels like / to be 21. He doesn't know / what it means that he's as old / as her father. . . .'' The poet's recollections poignantly capture the euphoria of love and the sadness of loss. Throughout this volume, Howell expertly blends the familiarity of colloquial speech and the more complex rhythms of poetic imagery. (Aug.)