<p>William Carlos Williams is alive and well, living and writing in Crescent City, California. Bright Darkness reveals Ken Letko, as Mr. Williams apparently now calls himself, dancing on the edge of redwood-high enjambments. But that hardly describes his word-magic. A better way to talk about his poems comes from these lines: ". . . always alive / I must navigate / in the never-ending / moment of transport . . . " So his language moves, and thus, so do we. </p><p><strong>-John Bradley, author of <em>Terrestrial Music</em></strong></p><p><br></p><p>"Why have I spent so much of my life trying to be like an ant, nine times stronger than a human?" asks poet Ken Letko, in his full-length debut, <em>Bright Darkness</em>. That's easy. Because, by striving with such strength, Ken's given the world his unique, big-hearted worldview distilled between the covers of a book. </p><p><strong>-Rebecca Lawton, author of <em>Steelies and Other Endangered Species</em></strong></p>