Aricka Foreman



Aricka Foreman is a poet, editor and educator from Detroit, MI. Author of the chapbook Dream with a Glass Chamber (YesYes Books), she has received fellowships from Cave Canem, Callaloo, and the Millay Colony for the Arts. Her poems, essays and features have appeared in The Offing, Buzzfeed, Vinyl, RHINO, The Blueshift Journal, Day One, shuf Poetry, James Franco Review, THRUSH, Please Excuse This Poem: 100 New Poems for the Next Generation (Viking Penguin), among others. She currently lives in Chicago, IL.



Dream With a glass chamber

The elegy which weaves the poems in Dream With A Glass Chamber lives in threshold: in the rooms of dream, in the change of season. And what lingers is the conversation between the living and the beloved. A tender, moody and resilient collection.
— francine j. harris, author of play dead
These poems are the electrified songs of grief, spinning the reader into an awakened state: one where we are forced to not just live, but love the sometimes brutal act of staying.
— Rachel McKibbens, author of blud
Dream with a Glass Chamber is a stark and startling collection made from cities and ghosts, empty whiskey glasses and loss, fire and the ashes that remain. In poem after poem, Aricka Foreman shapes that wreckage into a remarkable elegy. Hers is a vision that’s not content to merely grieve, but one that wrestles grief as if demanding an explanation. “I want to make something useful” she writes, and what she has made here is a light in the dark, an enduring monument.
— Matthew Olzmann, author of Mezzanines

select interview excerpts: the shade journal

The diagnostic and colloquial language we use to discuss grief and trauma is so absurd to me. And it’s complicated. Human instinct causes us to catalog and list and make linear the trauma of loss. So I kept interrogating the stages: anger, denial, bargaining, etc.; the process was compulsive, and obsessive.
This book is clearly an elegy. An elegy is not inherently lyric, but potentially lives in the vast wheelhouse of the lyric poem. By pinpointing these poems to specific point in time, I can go back and pull from the moment something I missed, something I didn’t know to look at closely. 
In some ways the poem is a clap back, at moving on, at being stagnant, how and what we unlearn in the process. It’s unsettling but can also be a kind of reclamation.
Loss can make us ugly and gauche, overly familiar and quick to subtle violences. I wanted to be honest about my culpability in that.




Oh hey Let's Talk


Thank you for reaching out! If you're looking to book me for a reading, panel, to teach a workshop or consult on your manuscript: holler. As a working artist who strives for life balance, I typically respond to emails weekly on Mondays and Tuesdays from 12-5 PM CST. Unless it's extremely time sensitive or I'm traveling, please expect a one-week turnaround response to your note. I look forward to building with you soon, and I hope this finds you taking care of you, too!