Praise for YOUThis is a collection of incredible strength and wisdom, much of it hard-won, but one that emerges out the other side, stronger for having not only survived, but thrived.
Rob Mclennans Blog"Wielding needle and steel, epistle and wit, Rosa Alcala fearlessly addresses selves past and present in
YOU. Each brilliant prose lyric floods the empty lots and glossed recesses where harassment and assault thrive with unflinching light to expose a world that blithely acquiesces to the 'suffering [that] was the deep and/persistent condition of being a woman.'
YOU delivers not the impoverished self of determination or even care, but a you who recalls and redraws the map for all our daughters.
Anna Maria HongDo we have a way of explaining the imaginative tangle of what your life has been, but what you wished it could have been, and what you still wish it might become? Rosa Alcalas
YOU is a book of spells that fearlessly confronts this question. Her unforgettable prose poems are feminist, feminine epiphanies, recklessly abundant in erotic charge and bitter wisdom.
Katie PetersonSpeaking to herself through the second person you, Rosa Alcala opens a transom through time and space. Reaching all the way back to the eyes that didnt know what I was witnessing at five, the poet gathers vision and selves, memory and prophetic warning. Her attempt to love the world helps us to see ourselves as imperfect as we started but indivisible as we might become."
Farid MatukLike a pendulum prognosticating some unknown future as it swings forward, only to swing back to rewrite the possible, Rosa Alcalas sumptuous
YOU interrogates the horizons where definitive shape makes claim, and, instead, founds a compassion that blurs legislated boundary (of body/of mind/of self/of other). In prose as gorgeously devastating as it is crushingly stunning,
YOU begs answer: when we are so many beautiful collisions, so many fleshed events, where does one body end and the other begin?
J. Michael MartinezPast Praise:Praise for MyOTHER TongueBest of 2017: Literary Hub & EntropySmall Press Distribution Bestseller[Alcala] uses empty spaces, hesitations, and semantic difficulties to address mothers and daughters, herself as mother and herself as daughter, and the messy emotions and miscommunications that move between languages (in her case, English and Spanish), as well as between and within female bodies, in breastfeeding, menstruation, giving birth. Alcalas short, wry lines, self-interruptions, and open spaces remind us how little precedent there is for honest writing on these topics, compared with the epic traditions of fathers and sons.
Stephanie Burt, The New York Times"How do we trace shifts of home or syllable, the history of becoming in language? We show what's passed on with the mother-milk, the blood-words, pushed from the body onto the page. That's what these poems do, spilling beautifully, forming in the mouth of the reader. This is the 'ark built to survive': our things built with words circling, mother-to-daughter-to-mother-to-daughter."
Eleni Sikelianos"Here are poems that reckon with the histories of family, generations, language, and love: how our tongues are mothered or not, how we are given to and abandoned. Alcala writes, 'What good is it to erect/ of absence/ a word?' Tough and gorgeous, smart and touching, these poems are offerings that tie, untie, unite, entice."
Hoa Nguyen"Rosa Alcala's new poemario
MyOTHER TONGUE begins in the archives of what has yet to be written. She writes with precision and dynamism from the borders between death (of a mother) and birth (of a daughter). What a body produces, and what produces a body: labor, trauma, memory, sacrifice, pain, danger, and language formed both on the tongue and in the culture and the spaces between what can be said and what is missing, the linguistic and existential problem of not having the right words. The darknesses in Alcala's work emerge from what happens when we don't see ourselves in the languages that both form and destroy us as we labor in this 'dream called money.' Alcala is a {un}documentarian of the highest order, a {un}documentarian of what history and memory try to erase. Her poems are urgent, demanding, and haunting."
Daniel Borzutzky 