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Tag Archives: Kip Knott
February 25, 1970 You captured that moment when, after drifting off to sleep one afternoon, you awoke in the evening and blinked, then blinked again and again and again until you were able to pull something tangible out from the … Continue reading
Everything is repeated, in a circle. History is a master because it teaches us that it doesn’t exist. —Umberto Eco, Foucault’s Pendulum This summer is finally nearing its end. I can smell distant fires, oak smoke and cherrywood, on the … Continue reading
The firefly flickers in my loosely closed fist, its light seeping between my fingers like silent Morse code. It could be sending an insect S.O.S. out into the world for all I know, calling for help to escape the cage … Continue reading
Locusts gather in clouds of themselves shedding skin like rain, each drop a decoy for crows flying low over furrows, shadows above shadows, rising and falling with each peak and trough, beaks opened wide as if to swallow the sky. … Continue reading
The curious have curled the chain-link back from the post. Lovely under dusk, the field has a half-life longer than the Ice Age. Cold stones burn their shapes into the earth, chatter warnings to be heard long after we’re gone. … Continue reading