Ken L. Walker
Ceremonies of the Rival Lamp
Ken L. Walker
Ken L. Walker lives in Louisville, Kentucky after being in Brooklyn for the past 11 years. He is the author of Twenty Glasses of Water (Diez, 2014), Antworten (Greying Ghost, 2017), and has work in the Boston Review, The Poetry Project Newsletter, Brooklyn Rail, Seattle Review, Atlas Review, Lumberyard, and Tammy.
Ken L. Walker
Ceremonies of the Rival Lamp
Ceremonies of the Rival Lamp
[[ 1 ]]
They come to the coast where the road crooks out—
de Compostela to Porto de Bares—carrying solely rat tails,
keeping each rear appendage as a respective pet,
shoving each inside tender, bruised
kneecaps, norvegicus, navigate, crepuscule,
dangling each as a claim they could
tie them
together
to make
a series of selves as necklaces.
They asked,
what is light but a mirror?
They requested as much natural light as possible
so that the tails could grow legs
and their deceased pets could live on. They came
to the coast to carry their pets into new light.
They asked,
what is a mirror but a version of light?
Venison of itself, animal as strict animal.
One man dried the pellet like pieces of one of his pet rat’s
diminished brain after it had escaped its aquarium.
We did not know these people for we
kept to ourselves, especially during the many days of rain.
We asked them, What is light
but another person
expecting nothing of you good and decent.
[[ 2 ]]
They said they were from a coastal area in the south—
somewhere near Gibraltar, stating
they were different from those in charge.
They said the roads were surrounded on both sides
by tans, ambers, burnt types of shades, colors,
sunburst squashes, melon threadbare rinds,
most vivid on overcast passages.
A veiled woman whispered,
These rats
were once white.
Later, said,
These tails were once
attempts at diversion,
unyielding abandonment
chastising fear.
So they left the tails wherever they went
even at restaurants as gratuity.
We could tell
if they liked someone because they would leave
a charred appendage in the other’s hands.
Burnt meant we could stand each other.
____________________________________________________
Questions for the Author:
What are 2 - 3 books (regardless of genre) that you've read over the last year or less that really blew your hair back?
- John Keene, Counternarratives (I've read it twice, in the past year.)
- Samantha Giles, deadfalls and snares
- The e-flux Supercommunity anthology, especially the essay "Notes on the Abstract Strike" by Antonio Negri
Who is someone you admire who does work that you feel really benefits your “local” community, and what kind of work is it that they do?
- The folks at La Casita Center, here in Louisville—they do many things but state professionally that they are "a grassroots non-profit located in Louisville, KY accompanying families in the Latinx community"
- The Tip It Forward crew does great work, as well, by providing holistic health care and body work with a super intriguing charity model.
Who wrote the best piece of writing (poem, book, essay, play, &c.) you’ve read in the last year or two that others might not be familiar with?
- I read of a lot of chapbooks and in the last year I've read at least three that completely blew my mind. Those are: Nicole Wallace's "Waasamowin"; Arthur Jafa's "My Black Death" and Matt Longabucco's "Heroic Dose".
Your favorite —
Whisk(e)y: Blanton's.
Poem: Etheridge Knight's "Feeling Fucked Up"
Scientist or inventor: Nikola Tesla &/or Tu Youyou
Movie to watch alone: Le Grande Belleza