Kathleen Fraser

Just a little bit about Fraser: I was interested in the recurring theme of particularity in her writing. Her poems are extremely specific, down to dates and names of people and places. She talks in one of her most recent poems, "Yomei Mon...", about her family's ashes are scattered and that this gives her "no specific location for my grief". I wonder if the particularities of daily life become a tool for her, a way to create order out of apparently random occurrences. Language could be a system, a frame, for thinking about the apparently pointless cruelties of life--as in "La Reproduction Interdite"?