Lady on the Platform, Adam Foster

I can’t watch 

without a bile of blood and bones

inch up a throat

choking on the knee of circumstance.

The black of my closed eyelids

is already a theater; the pit

orchestrates the offences 

nightly. The light of May 

was violent, branding 

my retinas with the violence 

that ensued. June sobbed

unsettling squalls that stretched 

and tore the tiny tendons trying

to keep the blood in my ears pumping. 

July tasted like thick smoke

on my tongue. Fireworks 

flavored with epistemic injustice 

showered the sky as 

sooty middle fingers

caked with disgust 

fastened on babies marching the streets.

August smelled familiar. Like failure, 

like red, like white, like 

that paralyzing blue. 

Here I confess the words 

I chanted after I cried sufficing

tears to baptize

cotton fields, to flow

into a transatlantic sea:

I will witness this no longer.

About the Author

Alexis Dubreuil · Whitworth University

Alexis is a senior at Whitworth University in Spokane, Washington currently studying International Studies and French. She hopes to work with international human rights and development organizations in the future. She tries to spend her time outside of the classroom laughing, writing, traveling, and learning about different people and cultures. This piece first appeared in Script. 

About the Artist

Adam Foster · University of Minnesota

Adam Foster is a senior at the University of Minnesota studying Graphic Design. Lady on the Platform first appeared in The Tower, and his artwork and design work can be found on Instagram at @foster.graphic.