Goodnight, Gracie

Just as George Burns's dialogues with Gracie Allen once taught that apparent wrong turns in conversation often lead to true understanding, Schwartz's poems meander wisely through unexpected territory. The debut collection begins with the sometimes sad, sometimes wry ``Reports of My Death'' and ends with a description of the poet placing a stone at his father's grave. The writing, seemingly offhanded and vernacular, is precise and balanced, with echoes of Elizabeth Bishop, particularly in the couplets of dialogue. But the material is original and often downright funny. He records stray conversation on a train crossing the Rockies: ``I wonder, what's the `regional specialty' for the Donner Pass?'' A visit to a vegetarian household in Hamburg, house hunting near Boston, an excursion through the graves of the Yiddish Theatrical Alliance in the Jewish Cemetery in Queens all lead to an enhanced perception of human mortality, man's limitation. In a word self-portrait Schwartz's gaze looks ``centripetal'' while his legs seem brushed ``centrifugally, / into the surrounding swirl.'' This physical dichotomy translates to the voice of the poet, confident in honest disarray. Schwartz is a regular commentator on NPR's Fresh Air. (Mar.)