Tuesday, June 16, 2015

6.16.15

Juan Luis Herrera is our next poet laureate of the US, and the first Latino to be chosen. Previously the poet laureate of California in 2012, he studied at UCLA and Stanford, and his work reflects the "three Californias", or faces of the state as he knew it.

His work has received a lot of acclaim (including the UC Berkeley Regents Fellowship, go bears!), and he continues to teach and do activist work. I am happy that a Latino poet laureate has been chosen, since the diversity of voices in writing and art is part of what makes the USA an interesting place in which to create.

Now on to some poems. Usually I reformat anything I cut and paste from websites, since they tend to transfer poorly, but I am leaving Everyday We Get More Illegal as I found it, because the spacing is important to the reading:



Yet the peach tree 
still rises
& falls with fruit & without
birds eat it the sparrows fight
our desert       
 
            burns with trash & drug
it also breathes & sprouts
vines & maguey
 
laws pass laws with scientific walls
detention cells   husband
                           with the son
                        the wife &
the daughter who
married a citizen   
they stay behind broken slashed
 
un-powdered in the apartment to
deal out the day
             & the puzzles
another law then   another
Mexican
          Indian
                      spirit exile
 
 
migration                     sky
the grass is mowed then blown
by a machine  sidewalks are empty
clean & the Red Shouldered Hawk
peers
down  — from
an abandoned wooden dome
                       an empty field
 
it is all in-between the light
every day this     changes a little
 
yesterday homeless &
w/o papers                  Alberto
left for Denver a Greyhound bus he said
where they don’t check you
 
walking working
under the silver darkness
            walking   working
with our mind
our life


Half-Mexican


Odd to be a half-Mexican, let me put it this way
I am Mexican + Mexican, then there’s the question of the half
To say Mexican without the half, well it means another thing
One could say only Mexican
Then think of pyramids – obsidian flaw, flame etchings, goddesses with
Flayed visages claw feet & skulls as belts – these are not Mexican
They are existences, that is to say
Slavery, sinew, hearts shredded sacrifices for the continuum
Quarks & galaxies, the cosmic milk that flows into trees
Then darkness
What is the other – yes
It is Mexican too, yet it is formless, it is speckled with particles
European pieces? To say colony or power is incorrect
Better to think of Kant in his tiny room
Shuffling in his black socks seeking out the notion of time
Or Einstein re-working the erroneous equation
Concerning the way light bends – all this has to do with
The half, the half-thing when you are a half-being

Time

Light

How they stalk you & how you beseech them
All this becomes your life-long project, that is
You are Mexican. One half Mexican the other half
Mexican, then the half against itself


Herrera has a large body of work and there are many more to look through, I encourage you to explore his writings. Something I liked about both of these was the lack of punctuation at the final. It made me think that the work was continuing elsewhere. (Like they say, a poem is never unfinished, only abandoned, so this is perfect). 

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