Poetry. Night and day, Ken Taylor works on our behalf, reading the mind of the sky, where quick clouds disclose our fate. His poems are a single, keenly rendered, immaterial tableau. They take shape, they dissolve, over and over, in ever-fresh configurations, each becoming the next, in a relentless, and brilliant, flow of words, both inside our heads and high above the earth, that garage with its roof blown off.--Joseph Donahue
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Poetry. Night and day, Ken Taylor works on our behalf, reading the mind of the sky, where quick clouds disclose our fate. His poems are a single, keenly rendered, immaterial tableau. They take shape, they dissolve, over and over, in ever-fresh configurations, each becoming the next, in a relentless, and brilliant, flow of words, both inside our heads and high above the earth, that garage with its roof blown off.--Joseph Donahue
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