leadbelly: poems Book

This is more than blues poetry; this is not a just a journey through a time or a history or a biography; this is not, to use Audre Lorde's word, a "biomythography;" this is a muscle singing, a boot thump, a whiskey jar. These poems ache with beauty, they sweat in the shade, they vibrate. You do not need to know anything of the blues to read this book, nor do you need to know who Leadbelly was, or his songs. Jess' voice will still grab you and strangle. Although, if you do know those things, you might gasp less. You might enjoy the fingers on your throat. From "leadbelly: runagate:" "i am stepping toward dry land, the dance of ankle chains, where i scream history into song that works itself into blood, sweat, memory."