Suss: another literary journal

On the web­site for the Institute for Latino Studies at the University of Notre Dame, it says that the pro­gram “seeks to enhance the vis­i­bil­ity, appre­ci­a­tion, and study of Latino lit­er­a­ture both on and off the cam­pus of the University of Notre Dame.” Paul Martinez Pompa’s col­lec­tion, My Kill Adore Him, won the program’s Andres Montoya Poetry Prize, given every other year. Martin Espada, the 2008 judge, says that Paul Martinez Pompa is “one tough, smart poet.” This is to say that even going into these poems, you are warned of their greatness—and you find that greatness.

These poems are care­ful and tight. Martinez Pompa gives entire worlds in 16 lines or less. He gets in and out just that fast. He makes you feel chest-heavy sad­ness, nos­tal­gia, arousal, and fear. He takes your hand and shows you char­ac­ters: some you know and some you don’t want to know; some are you. These poems are beau­ti­ful and rak­ing all at once. In “The Body as Weapon, as Inspiration,” Martinez Pompa rein­car­nates the past ugli­ness of every repet­i­tive con­flict, prov­ing that vio­lence breeds itself:

The body as weapon, as inspi­ra­tion
when she walks into a Jerusalem mar­ket
and explodes her­self. Not so much
the explo­sive force, but the shrapnel

a year ago that tore through her
mother’s chest and maimed her
brother’s legs.

Martinez Pompa keeps his read­ers aware of their role, and his own,

There will be retal­i­a­tion strikes,

mis­sile bom­bard­ments, another round
of bull­doz­ers. And there will be a poet
thou­sands of mils away, excited
by the bur­den of writ­ing this thing.

But these poems are rebel­lious and sar­cas­tic, too. They’re funny the way John Stewart is funny: because you know he’s right. In “Manifesto,” Martinez Pompa warns, “Soon you will wake to the ruckus of reg­gae­ton, / the boom of banda, the clat­ter of mil­lions of lit­tle brown feet in-/ vad­ing your schools, wherein any­one caught learn­ing English will / be charged with trea­son and deported.” And then he urges, “Illegals of all coun­tries, Unite!” These are poems to pass around—to teach and learn—to see and study and appreciate.