Read This Excerpt, Then Buy Frederick Joseph’s First Poetry Collection, “We Alive, Beloved”
Making Luxury Out of Flat Soda I learned to breathe in my grandmother’s kitchen despite life sitting on my chest. Scent of cast-iron skillet seasoned by sunrises and ancestors’ touch. Gospels of sizzling grease and bubbling greens my uncle called hallelujah and amen. Wallpaper aged like the wrinkled faces of generations sitting at her…