Black Under

This book is polyvocal and kaleidoscopic; searing with slick acrostics, incisive self-portraiture, wry sixteen-line sonnets & ironic job descriptions (“Career-Changing Opportunity!”) seeking Black artists willing to “draw blood and conclusions”—to carve a living from death and intergenerational trauma. Black Under defies strict categorization, save for the fact that it is altogether excellent. Ashanti Anderson reminds me that, given the right pitch, “this bubbled mouth ain’t a sick it’s a cure.”

—Marcus Wicker