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.