I wish Janice were my aunt, my neighbor, my dive bar buddy. I feel she has seen and lived with so much. I feel I could listen to her for hours. I feel we could laugh, drink, and sob through the tales. No one would be better for it, but we'd be alive after having shared the experience.
This potent collection of poems lays bare the raw nerve of life. The reader is not spared. Looking is necessary. This is the human stain. These writings show communal and individual resilience, especially in the face of the mass Japanese Incarceration of WWII and the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Here, her poems paint the page with blood, semen, saliva, and the dust of teeth. Mirikitani paints with the horrors and traditions of life. Here, the cooped-up terrors are set free. One can only hope this statement holds true for the speaker who declares, “Every time I break my silence, I earn my freedom” (53).
Although this collection is littered with great poems, these were my favorites:
Wild Jody
Graciela
Jungle Rot and Open Arms
The Abortion
You Turned Your Head
Where bodies are buried
Cry
Generations of Women