
In Noa Micaela Fields’s and mace dent johnson’s poetry, sound is primal; it takes precedence over meaning, choreographing our thought patterns, sometimes in stark divergence from logic and reason. Both poets foreground the iterative, transformative force of words as they bleed into one another. Meaning is reconfigured across syntactically devious arrangements. We find ourselves dancing, listening, learning language anew through its sonic radiance.