WORDS WITH KEVIN KILLIAN

Killian’s synesthetic insertion of a scent into several photographs is also genius; it moves from the on-point evocativeness of the referenced scent viz

       “Low cloud of violet fog blurring the bed’s four corners, almost like patchouli,” 

to (oh such a brilliant leap)

       “and underneath the heavy scent, the deeper scent of a woman thinking.”

--from review of EKSTASIS by Kevin Killian and Peter Valente

Of course Kevin Killian’s brilliant output also moved me to write reviews on his works. I emphasize that I don’t assign myself reviews—and no one else does. I simply try to read widely and whatever moves me to write a review ends up being what I review from the books of both friends and strangers. Kevin’s work moved me more than the two times I was able to (find the time to) review him:

SELECTED AMAZON REVIEWS by Kevin Killian: http://galatearesurrection24.blogspot.com/2015/05/selected-amazon-reviews-by-kevin-killian.html

EKSTASIS by Kevin Killian and Peter Valente

http://galatearesurrects2017.blogspot.com/2017/07/ekstasis-by-kevin-killian-and-peter.html

Kevin also was generous enough to review me on Amazon—he reviewed AMNESIA—it's heartbreaking to read his words now as it reminds of his generosity. I’d actually told him he didn’t have to review my work as I’d just wanted to support Belladonna who’d auctioned off a Kevin Killian review for one of their fundraisers. But of course Kevin went ahead with the review…

I notice that my review of his Amazon collection ends up with the words, “Stay healthy, Kevin Killian! We want more books from you!” Ach.

"THANK YOU FOR...," KEVIN KILLIAN. R.I.P.

I’ve been starting, then deleting, then starting all night. The sorrow over Kevin Killian’s passing goes deep. When I moved from NY to San Francisco, he introduced himself and then so swiftly brought me into the Bay Area poetry community. My debt is immense. My gratitude is immense. My sorrow is immense. Perhaps a regret is how I never told him just how meaningful a role he played in encouraging me to continue with this poetry life. Because it’s hard. But when you find light like his only in (or through) such an arduous landscape, you don’t depart the landscape. In progress: an encyclopedia-length list poem (or list) entitled “Dear Kevin, Thank You For Not Laughing”—here’s one line:

“Thank you for not laughing when I thought bringing a naked poet onstage must require dimming the lights."

I can only return to the poem where I have a chance of being articulate. Outside the poem, my sorrow mostly makes me speechless. For now, R.I.P. and “Thank you for…”, Kevin Killian. Love is a source of difficulty—