Luisa A. Igloria

Poet Luisa A. Igloria (website) is the author of Ode to the Heart Smaller than a Pencil Eraser (Utah State University Press, 2014 May Swenson Prize), Night Willow (Phoenicia Publishing, 2014), The Saints of Streets (University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2013), Juan Luna’s Revolver (2009 Ernest Sandeen Prize, University of Notre Dame Press), Trill & Mordent (WordTech Editions, 2005) and 8 other books.

When she isn’t writing, reading, or teaching, she cooks with her family, hand-binds books, listens to tango music, and keeps her radar tuned for cool lizard sightings.

The agent called and asked me if I had a preference. I was asked to turn the knob one way for weather and another way for the time of year. At the end of the interview period I returned the cardboard box containing flash cards and brochures, only keeping back the ones that most audibly vibrated in my dreams. The first showed a stone chapel at the end of the world. The second had a fire pit whose flames were made of curling wind. The third held the bones of tiny fish and birds; they snapped open like umbrellas then caught on the edges of the sky when I released them to the air.

“To see and be seen
is to be taken prisoner.” ~ D. Bonta

At the end of summer, dance class recital. Grass skirts and crepe paper leis, halter tops with coral flower prints. New breasts of girls refracted in the prism of men’s eyes.


Children milled about after church service. The commons was an indecipherable blur of bodies. Where did he come from, how and why did he scoop her up in his arms? At first she laughed then squirmed. We crossed the room as she was set down. How did no one else notice?