When Rap Spoke Straight to God is not sacred or profane, but rather a chorus joined in a single soliloquy, demanding to be heard. There’s Wu-Tang and Mary Magdelene with a foot fetish, Lil’ Kim and a self-loving Lilith. Slurs, catcalls, verses, erasures. Erica Dawson's new book-length poem from Tin House represents both a lament for and a celebration of blackness. Like Wu-Tang says, the marginalized “ain’t nothing to f--- with.” In conversation with D. Scot Miller.‍

Erica Dawson is the author of two collections of poetry: The Small Blades Hurt (Measure Press, 2014), winner of the 2016 Poets’ Prize; and Big-Eyed Afraid (Waywiser Pess, 2007), winner of the 2006 Anthony Hecht Prize. Her work has appeared in three editions of Best American Poetry; Pushcart Prize XLI: Best of the Small Presses, Resistance, Rebellion, Life: 50 Poems Now, Barrow Street, Bennington Review, Crazyhorse, Harvard Review, Virginia Quarterly Review, and numerous other journals and anthologies. She lives in Tampa, FL and is an Associate Professor at University of Tampa, where she also directs the low-residency MFA program.

‍D. Scot Miller is an Oakland-based writer, artist and curator. A regular contributor to Gawker Review of Books, Sensitive Skin, City Lights, and Mosaic Magazine, he is the author of The AfroSurreal Manifesto.