Theology of Swallows

William Blackburn is a professor of English at the University of
Calgary.

That Manicom should have a Ph.D. is no surprise; that he should work in
the Canadian Foreign Service is merely cause for regret; that he should
also be a deft, sensitive and powerful poet is nothing less than a minor
miracle.

All lovers of modern poetry know what death is the mother of. All
lovers of mythology know that where the treasure awaits us, so too does
the dragon Fafnir. Manicom also knows these things—and tells us of
them in a collection of verse subtle and delicate, precise and
unflinching. Whatever his ostensible subject, he maintains a tight
thematic focus that testifies to the depth and unity of his vision. He
is a poet who stands at the window opening always onto the dark—and
compels the reader to stand there with him. We live and die—in a world
in which “we are never the centre,” a world in which “everything
can be lost.” Those of us who claw at oblivion—and who does
not?—are reminded that “desire is perfect when you are alone.”
Standing at the edge of darkness—where else would one wish a poet to
be?—he reminds us of “the terrible fragility nearby,” and demands
and shares with us the courage to love the beauty that can only break
our hearts.