Elsa Court Ocean Drive It was already morning and time to put on a pair of shorts. But, like an…

In the summer of 2017, I heard Arthur Jafa give a talk at the Serpentine Pavilion. He opened with music, playing chopped and screwed versions of Frank Ocean and Jay Z. His words themselves were like sing-song, a darting, undulating rhythm. And the anchor: Music is the only space where Black people don’t have to be marginal. Most, if not all of my work, is concerned with freedom – of expression, of the personhood, of Black people – so these words resonated […]

When we turn off the light and I hold you close / my vision splinters, a mirror that catches / what light there is, throws it back as an untruth. / We are so close to each other here / that full faces never form – just a wisp of hair / settling on a cheek, an eyebrow like a capstone

words appear / on the walls / great lakes strung from her fingers / builders vomiting multicoloured glitter over gravel / the grass bends back / lacing the ditches with dull green / from where we admire / ponds full of nothing