Tragedy, Ecstasy, Doom, and so on
Rust and Blue
An ocean between two darknesses:
one darkness plum-like,
the darkness that arises
from somewhere deep within
the earth after sunset
and fills with stars;
the other darkness coagulated
as old blood spilled
from a suicide's wrists.
You want us to swim
across that ocean,
but you refuse to tell us
which direction we should go.
* * *
The poems in Kip Knott's debut collection are a measuring of hope and dread, poems that show us the beautiful, bright photograph then places it next to its dark, disturbing photographic negative. In these poems, we witness, for example, Salvador Dali going to work in an office. The discourse issuing from these efforts is redemptive, even if it doesn’t come in the form of answers. These poems intrigue with their questioning of the human condition, a state somewhere between spirit and stranger. As the poems move easily into Mark Rothko’s art and life, the discourse continues but in the form of colors, of juxtapositions, guiding our understanding of them from canvas to soul. In sum, the poems stay true to exploring an initial, profound insight: The other man that I am.
- Alberto Rios
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