popcorn & ground beef,
screams, wind whoosh up her skirt, & gleam,
all circling the Ferris wheel; these images are
retrospective – class B carny – Lord Mary;
Andrew turned to look at the back of her husband’s three-story house; grey shingles and panel windows glowing from the fiery light of low-angled rays. Charlotte flickered at the edge of his sight. There was light in the master bedroom on the right side of the second story. Andrew could see the seascape above her bed and the sliding door to the walk-in closet ajar in the corner.
Citizen feels like a magic book, a manifesto for a new era of Black art. Above all, Claudia Rankine’s second collection is an intimate work of truth: it gives an incisive, complex account of being ...
The dock remembers
and it is alive. It has memories
rustling in the wood and twitching into the water.
The bees drop honey in my eyes
and their milky eggs in my ears
so I can’t hear their conspiracy.
Wetland edging slow
into the North sea, skimming
earth into ocean.
What was it this time?
Rich man – Poor man – Beggar man
or someone who called me a thief?
and out comes a sandcastle,
aborted in its prime