Hustle

“Memory is a fist to the eye” in Martinez’s debut collection, which depicts a family where “violence is the oldest inheritance,” and a coming-of-age in which the speaker “died/ into silent manhood/…spoke in the twist/ of fingers to gang signs.” From an alcoholic grandfather and a father for whom “life was work. For him, everything was hard,” the speaker remembers himself as a boy who “dreamed of sleeping/ perfectly still—/ a macho’s rest;/ muggers, murderers, and fathers,” and a teenager who “wanted so badly to go to prison/ wanted my stripes and the respect of teens.” Questions of masculinity and power run throughout, and the poems feel simultaneously intimate and spectacular as the voice strikes registers of vulnerability and bravado. For all the narratives of strife the collection contains, Martinez’s poetics are anything but grim. Rather, there is a delight in language play and a lexicon that spans slang to theory. From the remove of poetry, Martinez brings clarity to the chaotic world of his youth, observing “before an alpha, before the first word or a god/ there was a riot of silence to be banded and named,” and brings urgency to the language, asking, “Where is the window to break/ in your life?” (May)