This collection of poetry revisits those uprooted and attempting to adjust to life in the United States, and walks into the lives of the barrio-colonia where canals, orange groves, and streets intersect. It settles in the mexclado of anglos, tejanos, im migrants, chican@s, transients, y mas. Welcome to un topsy turvy poxo world, where the fl awed and perfect speak the same.
Desarraigados are those of us who have been uprooted and confused by the theories of fronteras. Confused by labels and labeled because it is logical. Regional subcultures mess us all up – so how can we associate with labels that marginalize the distinctiveness of our South Texas community?
It’s a conversation meant to have us running in circles. Jumping from being Hispanic or Latino to being Chicano, possibly Mexican-American or Tejano. I’ve lived all these labels without ever truly owning them. Sometimes, it’s all about the occasion.
And that’s what I appreciate about Isaac Chavarria’s collection of poems. In reading Poxo, I was able to identify with the author’s jumble of lenguajes, never settling between one world and the other. Aware that he can distance himself from one root and never be able to branch away from it.