under the feet of jesus ap lit
Currently, Linette is attempting to survive in small-town America.
More of their work can be found at jasonphoeberusch. Waiting and waiting, Death I kept waiting. See: a thousand lucky fish in the Grimoire of My Life. The wild language of air sucked between teeth and the sibilance we submit to.
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Is the body not for this If black writhe of hhe alive. What steel-clap hand, drunk bones and premonition: sapid pelvis in translation, torso of trap and tropical bass I slither and bend into every note I slip, maestro, between your thresh and breakbeat, sweat a sea of wild anemones. Salt, so a deep song. Chest warm with the heat of our need and the menthol to come. High off echolocation, lights yellow the streets.
Beneath green rooms, I slip off my thick flit. Between floors cumbia mouths my name, says descend in and pay nothing. Give up the veils between us. Ecstatic corona, I pierce through the shrill season, against shudder.
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Teem brink. Woman in line with deliverance. And the February a body begs. Aricka Foreman is a writer, editor and educator from Detroit, MI. She currently lives in Chicago, IL. I can see la here and you are playing sol!
I prefer sol.
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Red, Red — the programmatic character of its symphonic suite. Red is oit. Red, carried in a wheelbarrow and buried by the priest-guard-stoker-museographer-artist-friend-of-all-positive-and-negative-dead-or-alive. Posthumous in Red! Anca Roncea, poet and translator. In she was a Fulbright visiting scholar at UC Berkeley. She was born and raised in Romania and now lives in Iowa City where she writes and translates poems, working on an experimental translation of Tristan Tzara as well as her first book of poetry.]
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