I can’t write without knowing that each thing I define will be erased in time. There are no safe and secure places for language. The death of meaning is like the extinction of a species. 173 more words
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From Prairie Fire:
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In reading Don Domanski’s All Our Wonder Unavenged, the words ‘carpentry of the soul’ came to mind. “I put two final drops of oil in the mechanism / which is placing a word on either side of time,” he writes in “Disposing of a Broken Clock” (67) And so, with such precision of image, does Domanski create metaphor for the workings of time and the deliberate acts of the poet that effaces it–“I anoint .