#undocupoets

I write because queer immigrant experiences matter, because I am a tired, queer immigrant/permanent resident, because I have been tired for a long time...

Thank you to Christopher Soto for this gathering of bold voices against the dehumanization of immigrants—up now on the Poetry Foundation blog. I contributed a small statement (quoted above) that feels like it might become a full piece (poem? essay?) in the near future. Here are two statements from two writers I admire immensely: 

I grew up in Europe at a time when the trending, right wing rhetoric was to send the children of all immigrants "back to where they came from."  I had the feeling, at times, that I had not really been born.  That emptiness carried through.  It's what a child, in particular, might internalize as worthlessness.  What could be more cruel?  Yet, and we already know this: this is how colonization works.  It strips you of your human-ness, your connection to place and home.  Dear Government, no.

—Bhanu Kapil 

& 

DACA, at my most optimistic, is a long overdue reconciliatory action by a bifurcated governing body that creates a citizenship path for those most essential to the renewal of the vivacity in the United States of America. At my severest, DACA appears to be the furthering of centuries of hegemony by an empire woefully, purposefully insistent on oppression of the many for the benefit of the few, creating a dual revenue of money and obedience.  The difference between me being a citizen of the U.S.A. and an immigrant is 18 miles, the length of the New York City Tune Up Marathon, the amount of books in Strand Book Store, only half the size of Disney World, or the speed at which a "cheetah" robot can run per hour on a treadmill. In many ways, a border is no more than a razor. Government originated as a nautical term, meaning to steer, which they are doing towards capsizal.  We must resist.

—David Tomas Martinez

____________

because the bird flew before            there was a word            for flight

                                   years from now                                    there will be a name                        for what you and I are doing

I licked the mango of the sun you blew out the flame from a match

           the night was heavier            than the light it hushed

                                                              ____________

                       the pockets of unsteady light                                                the bone––                                                the seed                                    inside the bone––

                                                           the echo                                                and its echo                                                and its shape

                                   Hojas de roble folded                                                into dolls kneeling in prayer

                                                               ____________

                       call it wound                        call it beginning

            the bird’s beak twisted                                    into a small circle of awe  

                       you called it cutting apart

2019 Undocupoets Fellowship

Overview

The Undocupoets Fellowship, in partnership with Amazon Literary Partnership and the Sibling Rivalry Press Foundation, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit private foundation, will grant TWO $500 fellowships, with no strings attached, to undocumented or previously undocumented poets to help defray the cost of poetry-related fees.

Submissions Process

This fellowship is intended for any writers who are currently undocumented or who were formerly undocumented in the United States.

Please submit up to 10 pages of poetry, with no more than one poem per page, per individual. In addition, please include a cover letter with a bio and brief description of your current work or manuscript-in-progress.

At least one of the two fellowships awarded will be given to LGBTQ Undocumented poets, per an agreement with Sibling Rivalry Press. Please indicate on your bio if you identify as LGBTQ.

While no single fellowship recipient will receive more than $500 on any given year, fellowships can be awarded to the same individual for multiple years.

Deadline: 11:59 PM, January 31, 2019

Please apply via Submittable here.

Two hundred Indian women killed their rapist on the courtroom floor of Nagpur in 2004. When Police tried to arrest lead perpetrators // the women responded “arrest us all.”

In this windowless room // where he poured acid & stole money // arrest us all

In this windowless room [shut like the gut of an ox] arrest us all

Gored & gorge are words to describe a wound          Gorgeous // the opening

Of a blade inside his chest       Gorgeous // black galaxies, growing

                           Across his skin, we threw rocks & chili pepper

Arrest us all

On the railroad tracks // where he murdered our sisters & left their dead bodies

On the railroad tracks // where black ants began // biting crowns into

Calves //                           The world is spinning and we’re // falling from its bed

How could we mourn?      He kept killing // & threatening // & raping us

Arrest us all                           On the red puddle // on the white courthouse floor

Arrest us all                     We sawed his penis off // & tore his house // to rubble

Look // the streets are swarming // in protests                         [welcome home]

                          The night is neon & buzzing like bumblebees

We never wanted to kill // only to stay alive // &

"Dear Poets and Poetry Publishers,

I’m writing with a special announcement regarding our prizes, but first, I want to thank Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, Christopher Soto, and Javier Zamora. In recent weeks, these three poets have been working to ensure that first-book awards for poets, including the Academy of American Poets’ Walt Whitman Award, are more inclusive of young poets living in the United States.