There's something about poems like "Impedimenta" and "City" (in TriQuarterly 132) that makes me imagine building blocks. I had those colored, wooden blocks when I was growing up. And when I set them up on my floor, they fit into each other tenuously, contingently. It was only my will to arrange them, or stack them, of course. Thinking about them now it's easy to see how the solid "thing" they made could be upset at any moment. Thankfully, I was the only child for a long time.
Doran's poems here have that constructed quality to them. They could fall apart, but they don't. They have that contented impression of being in just the right place. They are analogies, or personifications (I'm interested in thinking about the similarity of these two terms, or at least their intersection). To me, these poems are engaging because they touch on the concrete and the abstract simultaneously.
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TriQuarterly (worldcat search for TriQuarterly)
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