As a veteran cultural commentator and an accomplished author, Ryan Kent has long established his credentials as as an essential voice within the space of outsider art. His published collection of poetry includes Poems For Dead People, This Is Why I Am Insane, Hit Me When I Am Pretty, and Everything Is On Fire: Selected Poems 2014-2021.
In addition to his work as a staff writer for RVA Magazine and freelance journalist based out of Richmond, VA., Kent body of work also boasts two co-authored poetry compilations with Brett Lloyd for Rare Bird Books - Tomorrow Ruined Today and Some Of Us Love You.
Speaking to the kind of prolific creative headspace that Kent operates with, the wordsmith also has a spoken word album due out called, Dying Comes With Age which includes readings and musical compositions from the likes of D. Randall Blythe (Lamb of God), Laura Pleasants (Kylesa), Jimmy Bower (Down, EyeHateGod), Mike IX Williams (EyeHateGod), Adam Kravitz (Gritter), and more.
Given his artistic breadth, it makes sense that the recent passing of Screaming Trees pillar and early grunge architect Mark Lanegan resonated just a bit more than untimely musician's departure for Kent. Profoundly impacted by the archives of the Lanegan's work, Kent did what all artists do to during times of loss and languish - he created.
Picking up his pen, Kent strung together stanzas with a kind of poetic rhythm that is translates like a quality conversation - the kind you have commiserating over a stiff drink at a bar. Honoring the 'howl' synonymous with Lanegan's stylistic signature, Kent's lines convey pangs in their poignancy.
In his own words, Ryan Kent offer his farewell to an important artistic ally gone too soon.
I don’t know what rock you’ve been under, but the rock I’ve been under had Mark Lanegan there. I’ve met a lot of people like Mark Lanegan, but none of them like Mark Lanegan. They tried to be like Lanegan and Lanegan didn’t try. Lanegan already was. In 39 years, I never met Mark Lanegan, but you listen to enough of someone’s music and maybe you feel like you know them, which is nuts, but whatever. In the business of rock and roll, there are a slim few who can be mentioned in the same breath as Tom Waits or Nick Cave or Leonard Cohen, but here we are taking deep ones, about a leather lung from Seattle. In some of the lowest times of my life, Lanegan’s songs made me feel like Hell, but there was a sense of peace in it. A reckoning. Someone singing to me about my life sentence by singing to me about theirs. In a black and blue world, it’s nice to sit with a guy who has a lot of bruises and scars of his own. When I found out he’d died on February 22nd, I did what any good fan of Lanegan would:
I smoked a bunch of cigarettes and listened to the man sing. And man, could he sing.
Is It Howling There Too
by Ryan Kent
it rains sometimes
leaves turn upside down
clouds are cigarette smoke
eyes laugh pink with red lines
cough up a lung sometimes
makes you talk soft
inhale a new year sometimes
makes you look lost
it rains so hard sometimes
all the lights go off
can you feel that chill
how much did it cost
it is howling here
is it howling there too
it is howling to me
is it howling to you
can’t sleep sometimes
dark bird on the power line
car backfired three blocks up
gunshots sometimes
maybe you’ll tattoo your hands
maybe you’ll walk through the rain
maybe your hotel room burns
maybe it’s february again
just can’t sleep sometimes
the table has turned
if they can’t feel that chill
maybe they’ll learn
it is howling here
is it howling there too
it is howling to me
is it howling to you
there are wolves here tonight
