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357 pages, Hardcover
First published March 6, 2018
“And I think about all the things we could be if we were never told our bodies were not built for them.”
“Burn it! Burn it. This is where the poems are,” I say, thumping a fist against my chest. “Will you burn me? Will you burn me, too?”
I am the baby fat that settled into D-cups and swinging hips so that the boys who called me a whale in middle school now ask me to send them pictures of myself in a thong.
When your body takes up more room than your voice you are always the target of well-aimed rumors, which is why I let my knuckles talk for me. I’ve forced my skin just as thick as I am.
Trying to unhear my mother turn my kissing ugly, my father call me the names all the kids have called me since I grew breasts.
And I knew then what I’d known since my period came: my body was trouble. I had to pray the trouble out of the body God gave me. My body was a problem. And I didn’t want any of these boys to be the ones to solve it.
When I’m told to have faith in the father, the son, in men – and men are the first ones to make me feel so small.
And I think about all the things we could be if we were never told our bodies were not built for them.
This if for us. Ancestors: you crossed the harshest of waters / & waters & waters / & on the other side / still gasping / your breath / dreamt us / out of the tide / & we rise / because of / for you.I'm still not sure how to process the fact that a book like this exists. It is about damn time that women of color finally get the good ass representation we deserve. The Poet X would've been a game changer had I read it at age 14, 15, 16 ... Even in my twenties, I could relate to Xiomara and saw my younger self's struggles reflected in hers. Books like these make me truly feel, on a visceral level, why representation in literature is so fucking important. It is such a crazy and, sadly, new feeling for me to feel so seen. Sure, Xiomara has a different background from me, nonetheless, we share many physical attributes, which led to similar experiences of how other people view one's body, of how we view our own body. Some of her verses (“and Mami told me I had to pray extra hard so that my body wouldn’t get me into trouble”) nearly sucked the air out of my lungs.
And I'm disgusted at myselfThere are many reasons as to why one should read (or preferably, listen to) The Poet X: it's funny, it's heartfelt, it's so fucking passionate, but above all, it's original. This is a YA novel told in verse, that actually isn't shit and lacklustre. Elizabeth Acevedo knows her craft. She's a force to be reckoned with. This woman has decades of experience in the slam poetry field and it definitely shows. She knows how to throw a punch with her words, how to make you feel pain, fear, frustration, happiness. Like, sis had me giggling and rooting for a somewhat cheesy YA relationship (which hasn't happened for years) and at the same time at the edge of my seat when shit hit the fan or crying my heart out when it came to the sibling relationship in this book. Acevedo knows how to perform her story. You cannot escape her brilliance, you will be immediately sucked in. Therefore, I would highly suggest listening to the audiobook, as it will make for a much better experience than reading the story for yourself.
for the slight excitement
that shivers up my back
at the same time that I wish
my body could fold into the tiniest corner
for me to hide in.
After the assaultLike, Twin is my precious gay son and I want the best for him in the world, and seeing how he and Xiomara always wanted to protect the other but were simply unable to do so in certain situations (out of different reasons) was so fucking real to me, just thinking about it makes me cry. Xiomara knows that Twin being gay "makes him a target / And I can't defend against the arrows I know are coming." Therefore, she doesn't know how to deal with Twin's homosexuality. She wants to be supportive and she wants him to be happy, but she also fears what this will mean for him, what he'll have to go through because of it. I love how Acevedo handled this topic, since it was such a realistic portrayal and made it possible for Xiomara to reflect on her own biases and prejudices.
Twin asks me if I’m okay.
And my arms don’t know
Which one they want to become:
A beckoning hug or falling anvils.
And Twin must see it on my face.
This love and distaste I feel for him.
He’s older (by a whole fifty minutes)
And a guy, but never defends me.
Doesn’t he know how tired I am?
How much I hate to have to be so
Sharp tongued and heavy handed?
He turns back to the computer
And quietly clicks away.
And neither of us has to say
We are disappointed in the other.
He’s Mami’s miracle.Overall, I loved seeing Xiomara's growth and seeing her become more confident. It has been a while since I was rooting so hard for a fictional character. Needless to say, The Poet X has become my newest obsession and I'll definitely keep an eye on what Elizabeth Acevedo does next, I have a feeling that she could become one of my favorite modern writers. It's easy to see and feel the love she has for the craft of writing and poetry in particular. (“Late into the night I write and the pages of my notebook swell from all the words I’ve pressed onto them. It almost feels like the more I bruise the page the quicker something inside me heals.”)
He would become her sin.
I guess I hoped.
If I didn’t every really know.
It would be like he wasn’t.
But maybe my silence. Just made him feel more alone.
Maybe my silence.
Condones the ugly things people think.
“And I think about all the things we could be if we were never told our bodies were not built for them.”