Peter Johnson, Excerpts from Observations from the Edge of the Abyss
In 1999, the eccentric Knott sent me thoughtfully inscribed cheap, staple-bound pamphlets of his poems, sometimes quoting from my own prose poems in the inscriptions.
So funny how that uncanny, unfunny man sought you out on a rainy day in Istanbul—you were in earshot of the bazaar and smoking a hookah, and, of course, it was Ramadan.
