Great Regulars: For [Peter] Porter, the pleasure of strict

form isn't simply musical. It also affords a glimpse of that Edenic world in which "the whole close patterning is seen at once./Everything is perfect, and of no concern" ("No Infelicitous Phrases Need Apply"). But Porter's present day is post-lapsarian, as his title poem, with its echo of John Lennon's apparent hubris, suggests. "Free Will for Man!" may demand the death of God, but it remains the case that it is the ideal "orchestra/at the Creation" who "can play/anything you put in front of them".

from Fiona Sampson: The Guardian: Trapped by language

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