february & my love is in another state by José Olivarez
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mods are asleep post let's get married by josé olivarez
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José Olivarez, “Let’s Get Married”
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Promises of Gold, José Olivarez
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poem where no one is deported
by José Olivarez
now i like to imagine la migra running
into the sock factory where my mom
& her friends worked. it was all women
who worked there. women who braided
each other’s hair during breaks.
women who wore rosaries, & never
had a hair out of place. women who were ready
for cameras or for God, who ended all their sentences
with si dios quiere. as in: the day before
the immigration raid when the rumor
of a raid was passed around like bread
& the women made plans, si dios quiere.
so when the immigration officers arrived
they found boxes of socks & all the women absent.
safe at home. those officers thought
no one was working. they were wrong.
the women would say it was god working.
& it was god, but the god
my mom taught us to fear
was vengeful. he might have wet his thumb
& wiped la migra out of this world like a smudge
on a mirror. this god was the god that woke me up
at 7am every day for school to let me know
there was food in the fridge for me & my brothers.
i never asked my mom where the food came from,
but she told me anyway: gracias a dios.
gracias a dios del chisme, who heard all la migra’s plans
& whispered them into the right ears
to keep our families safe.
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what was it that i desired? for the pain to dissolve like sugar? for someone else to hold my hand? for the burden of loving me to be given to someone else?
Promises of Gold, José Olivarez
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José Olivarez, Promises of Gold; "Upward Mobility"
[Text ID: dancing to avoid the fluttering / of roaches, the boy brushes his teeth / with one eye on the sink / & one eye on the bugs / & one eye on his teeth / & one eye on time / & one eye on homework / & one eye on his brothers / & one eye on the future— / years later when his friends joke / about how he has poor people teeth, / his head will shed its skin / to reveal 5000 eyes the size / of cockroach hearts.]
An excerpt from The Rumpus Poetry Book Club‘s February selection,
Promises of Gold by José Olivarez
forthcoming from Henry Holt and Co. on February 7, 2023.
Subscribe by January 15 to the Poetry Book Club to receive this title and an invitation to an exclusive conversation with the author via Crowdcast.
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"Cal City Winter" from Promises of Gold | José Olivarez
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I killed a plant once because
I gave it too much water. Lord,
I worry that love is violence.
— José Olivarez
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sunday love by José Olivarez
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Promises of Gold, José Olivarez
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José Olivarez - Down to My Elbows (ending on a line by Shakespeare)
hands in a sink
down to my elbows
clogged with gray water
wet rice soggy cornflakes
in the other room
you read Twitter & text
me your favorite jokes
so this is love
i ask the fistful of nasty gunk
in my hand like
it’s a Shakespearean skull
& the skull says
there is nothing either good or bad
but loving makes it so
- Down to My Elbows (ending on a line by Shakespeare) by José Olivarez
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