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Every Day We Get More Illegal
Included in Publishers Weekly's Top 10 Poetry Books of 2020!
A State of the Union from the nation's first Latino Poet Laureate. Trenchant, compassionate, and filled with hope.
"Many poets since the 1960s have dreamed of a new hybrid art, part oral, part written, part English, part something else: an art grounded in ethnic identity, fueled by collective pride, yet irreducibly individual too. Many poets have tried to create such an art: Herrera is one of the first to succeed."--New York Times
"Herrera has the unusual capacity to write convincing political poems that are as personally felt as poems can be."--NPR
In this collection of poems, written during and immediately after two years on the road as United States Poet Laureate, Juan Felipe Herrera reports back on his travels through contemporary America. Poems written in the heat of witness, and later, in quiet moments of reflection, coalesce into an urgent, trenchant, and yet hope-filled portrait. The struggle and pain of those pushed to the edges, the shootings and assaults and injustices of our streets, the lethal border game that separates and divides, and then: a shift of register, a leap for peace and a view onto the possibility of unity. Every Day We Get More Illegal is a jolt to the conscience--filled with the multiple powers of the many voices and many textures of every day in America.
A State of the Union from the nation's first Latino Poet Laureate. Trenchant, compassionate, and filled with hope.
"Many poets since the 1960s have dreamed of a new hybrid art, part oral, part written, part English, part something else: an art grounded in ethnic identity, fueled by collective pride, yet irreducibly individual too. Many poets have tried to create such an art: Herrera is one of the first to succeed."--New York Times
"Herrera has the unusual capacity to write convincing political poems that are as personally felt as poems can be."--NPR
In this collection of poems, written during and immediately after two years on the road as United States Poet Laureate, Juan Felipe Herrera reports back on his travels through contemporary America. Poems written in the heat of witness, and later, in quiet moments of reflection, coalesce into an urgent, trenchant, and yet hope-filled portrait. The struggle and pain of those pushed to the edges, the shootings and assaults and injustices of our streets, the lethal border game that separates and divides, and then: a shift of register, a leap for peace and a view onto the possibility of unity. Every Day We Get More Illegal is a jolt to the conscience--filled with the multiple powers of the many voices and many textures of every day in America.
- GenresPoetryLatinxNonfiction
100 pages, Paperback
First published September 22, 2020
23 people are currently reading
630 people want to read
About the author
Juan Felipe Herrera
78 books138 followersJuan Felipe Herrera is the only son of Lucha Quintana and Felipe Emilio Herrera; the three were campesinos living from crop to crop on the roads of the San Joaquín Valley, Southern California and the Salinas Valley. Herrera's experiences as the child of migrant farmers have strongly shaped his work, such as the children's book Calling the Doves, which won the Ezra Jack Keats award in 1997. He is a poet, performer, writer, cartoonist, teacher, and activist who draws from real life experiences as well as years of education to inform his work. Community and art has always been part of what has driven Herrera, beginning in the mid-seventies, when he was director of the Centro Cultural de la Raza, an occupied water tank in Balboa Park converted into an arts space for the community.
Herrera’s publications include fourteen collections of poetry, prose, short stories, young adult novels and picture books for children in the last decade with twenty-one books in total.
Herrera’s publications include fourteen collections of poetry, prose, short stories, young adult novels and picture books for children in the last decade with twenty-one books in total.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 61 reviews
January 1, 2021
Juan Felipe Herrera was the first Latinx United States Poet Laureate, from 2015-2017. He was born in Fowler, California, the San Joaquin Valley, and agricultural center of the state, in 1948. His parents were migrant farmworkers, and he grew up, moving from place to place.
Herrera's poem resonate with strength, and resilience. His empathy is not simply because the people in his poems share his heritage, but because Herrera knows what their suffering feels like. The short poem border fever 105.7 degrees commemorates 7-year-old Jakelin Amei Rosemery, a native of Guatemala, who died in custody, and eight-year-old Felipe Goméz Alonso, who also died in Customs and Border Patrol custody on December, 24, 2018. The poem todavia estoy aqui said the deported father
still here i
am still here at times
still here in half light at times with you
These are not poems that rant (or at least if they do, not a great deal) against the powers that be, the conditions that led to people dying on our southern border. Rather, they are reminders of the humanity of the people who have suffered, who are suffering. A reminder of their dignity, and indeed, the dignity of all human lives.
Herrera's poem resonate with strength, and resilience. His empathy is not simply because the people in his poems share his heritage, but because Herrera knows what their suffering feels like. The short poem border fever 105.7 degrees commemorates 7-year-old Jakelin Amei Rosemery, a native of Guatemala, who died in custody, and eight-year-old Felipe Goméz Alonso, who also died in Customs and Border Patrol custody on December, 24, 2018. The poem todavia estoy aqui said the deported father
still here i
am still here at times
still here in half light at times with you
These are not poems that rant (or at least if they do, not a great deal) against the powers that be, the conditions that led to people dying on our southern border. Rather, they are reminders of the humanity of the people who have suffered, who are suffering. A reminder of their dignity, and indeed, the dignity of all human lives.
September 8, 2022
A jolting collection of poetry.
December 3, 2020
Very timely, but then, discussions about identity and justice always are. Juan Felipe's words tend to be rather oblique and cryptic, which works fine. I like the Spanish translations that run below the English in the last (and longest) piece.
April 22, 2022
2.5 stars
covered some interesting topics but did not pull me in or make me feel much.
covered some interesting topics but did not pull me in or make me feel much.
August 22, 2022
Moving, raw, and beautiful, in the way of broken rhythms and uneven insistent repetitions. Not pretty. Not to be ignored. A book of poems to be read straight through from beginning to end before you have the chance to sit down or to be distracted by the comfortable pillowed life where you're probably reading it. But what does it do for the world or for me in particular to have read these poems. There is a call to action here in these lines but--in the way of all poetry these days--it's a hoarse whisper of a call. I can close the book and go on. Or maybe the words will stir up something. Maybe they will cause me to pay more attention to the tent city by the river in my town and the people living there. Or maybe tonight as I'm making my dinner at very least I will hold a bell pepper in my hand with a bit more reverence than before, and consider how it came to be in my hand.
April 17, 2021
A collection of poetry that reflects on immigration, why all the horrors, why can't we all be one. At times, Herrera's voice feels like the poetic equivalent of Steinbeck's raw yet longing prose. The author represents through alternatively cryptic and explicit language a pressing political and social reality. His poetry is elaborate on the level of the paratext, that is graphics and variegated linguistic elements. Herrera's work is dissentient and demanding. Struggle, injustice, monstrosity, they're all in this work. Still, in the poems, the hope of a better future is restorative, it is deployed as an imaginative gateway from life's uncontrollable structural agony.
February 2, 2024
America We Talk About It
Summer Journals--August 8, 2017
--every day of the week. It is not easy. First I had to learn. Over
decades--to take care of myself. Are you listening. I had to
learn. I had to gain, pebble by pebble, seashell by seashell, the
courage to listen to my self. My true inner self. For that I had to
push you aside. It was not easy I had pushed aside my mother
my father my self in that artificial stairway of becoming you to
be inside of you--after years I realized perhaps too late there
was no way I could bring them back I could not rewind the
clock. But I did--I could do one thing. I could care. Now we
--are here.
Juan Felipe Herrera's poetry collection Every Day We Get More illegal is inconsistent. Striving to articulate the plight of migrant workers and immigrants, Herrera's verse is often opaque and lacking in prosaic craftsmanship. Often, he rants and raves for a series of lines without imagery or provocative phrasing, grinding his polemical saw but failing to sing. He proffers ideas and observations more frequently than profundity and heart. While there are excellent poetic moments, it's not enough to buoy the overall collection.
Summer Journals--August 8, 2017
--every day of the week. It is not easy. First I had to learn. Over
decades--to take care of myself. Are you listening. I had to
learn. I had to gain, pebble by pebble, seashell by seashell, the
courage to listen to my self. My true inner self. For that I had to
push you aside. It was not easy I had pushed aside my mother
my father my self in that artificial stairway of becoming you to
be inside of you--after years I realized perhaps too late there
was no way I could bring them back I could not rewind the
clock. But I did--I could do one thing. I could care. Now we
--are here.
Juan Felipe Herrera's poetry collection Every Day We Get More illegal is inconsistent. Striving to articulate the plight of migrant workers and immigrants, Herrera's verse is often opaque and lacking in prosaic craftsmanship. Often, he rants and raves for a series of lines without imagery or provocative phrasing, grinding his polemical saw but failing to sing. He proffers ideas and observations more frequently than profundity and heart. While there are excellent poetic moments, it's not enough to buoy the overall collection.
November 22, 2025
...you don’t care about the trans teens the taste of acid
the taste of plutonium about the nugget of larva of decay in
our milk and juice and you don’t care about the pesticide skin
of uncle Timoteo hauling Mendota cotton and melons on the
hammer lane of the 99...
a good collection with a few poems — "you just don't talk about it," "roll under the waves," "touch the earth (once again)" — i didn't breathe through.
October 26, 2021
"the wall
it is more than an arbitrary stop or as it is called the birder it is
an arrangement of agreements of always-war why is that when all
we desire is peace bread wather clothes work a thatched roof - &
humanity - most of all"
it is more than an arbitrary stop or as it is called the birder it is
an arrangement of agreements of always-war why is that when all
we desire is peace bread wather clothes work a thatched roof - &
humanity - most of all"
August 27, 2022
Very few poets have a grasp of the migrant experience than Juan Felipe Herrera. Rarely will you experience poems that are this personal and hard hitting.
April 18, 2023
A good set of poems dealing with a series of topics of America for an underrepresented group. However, there was nothing necessarily moving.
November 8, 2020
Released over the summer of 2020, Everyday We Get More Illegal highlights social issues and the growing divide between American citizens. While this book speaks specifically to the plight of immigrants, and the current US policy, it also gives a voice to anyone who feels marginalized. “Everyday” provides pivotal insights. Herrera reminds us that words are a political tool and he uses his words powerfully, hopefully, and without softening the edges of harsh realities.
Herrera’s writing pedigree includes being named California's poet laureate in 2012, and the U.S. poet laureate in 2015. These accolades come in addition to numerous awards and previously published works. Everyday We Get More Illegal was highly anticipated and does not disappoint.
Whether painting a word-picture through dialogue with a young son separated from his deported father, or recognizing essential workers’ constant contributions through labor—Herrera’s language penetrates the reader’s psyche, not brutally, but respectfully asking for reflection, consideration and remembrance. Herrera chronicles a lesser seen America that it is time to see, feel and make tangible.
Many poems in “Everyday” contain the rhythm of a conversation. The book is organized into poems collected under the common term for migrants, fireflies. In this case, Fireflies on the Road North.
Like most exceptional poetry and prose, these works may perhaps land on the reader’s feelings, touching on direct experience and also, giving light to scenes often acted out in the darkness of forgetting.
Address for the Firefly #6 On the Road North:
here a river — you can stop you can bathe & rest
you can meditate on water & stones & the flow
you can note
the breath sound
of all our lives
–Juan Felipe Herrera, from Every Day We Get More Illegal
Used with permission, Copyright 2020 City Lights Books
Hear Juan Felipe Herrera read from Every Day We Get More Illegal at LitQuake 2020
Herrera’s writing pedigree includes being named California's poet laureate in 2012, and the U.S. poet laureate in 2015. These accolades come in addition to numerous awards and previously published works. Everyday We Get More Illegal was highly anticipated and does not disappoint.
Whether painting a word-picture through dialogue with a young son separated from his deported father, or recognizing essential workers’ constant contributions through labor—Herrera’s language penetrates the reader’s psyche, not brutally, but respectfully asking for reflection, consideration and remembrance. Herrera chronicles a lesser seen America that it is time to see, feel and make tangible.
Many poems in “Everyday” contain the rhythm of a conversation. The book is organized into poems collected under the common term for migrants, fireflies. In this case, Fireflies on the Road North.
Like most exceptional poetry and prose, these works may perhaps land on the reader’s feelings, touching on direct experience and also, giving light to scenes often acted out in the darkness of forgetting.
Address for the Firefly #6 On the Road North:
here a river — you can stop you can bathe & rest
you can meditate on water & stones & the flow
you can note
the breath sound
of all our lives
–Juan Felipe Herrera, from Every Day We Get More Illegal
Used with permission, Copyright 2020 City Lights Books
Hear Juan Felipe Herrera read from Every Day We Get More Illegal at LitQuake 2020
November 23, 2020
I tend to think of poet laureates as very conservative poets. Not conservative in their politics, but in their poetics, so this pleasantly surprised me. Many of the later poems have a monologue/dialogue structure, some explicitly, like the poem about talking to a border machine that is constructed like a dialogue. I especially loved, "You Just Don't Talk About it" as a twin poem to "America we talk about it," with their themes of visibility and invisibility, denial and confrontation, privilege.
My favorite parts were the numbered poems (almost fragments) in INTERRUPTION, as these were less narrated and just laid out the apparatus of the border with plural first person.
The title itself (not even the title poem) deserves to be plastered everywhere: tshirt, billboards. It's helping me cope with the boundaries around personhood and humanity that are plagueing this year (pun intended) of suffering.
My favorite parts were the numbered poems (almost fragments) in INTERRUPTION, as these were less narrated and just laid out the apparatus of the border with plural first person.
The title itself (not even the title poem) deserves to be plastered everywhere: tshirt, billboards. It's helping me cope with the boundaries around personhood and humanity that are plagueing this year (pun intended) of suffering.
October 12, 2020
I've been keenly following Juan Felipe's work since it first crossed my path in 1979. In 2012, he was appointed California Poet Laureate by Gov. Jerry Brown. In 2015, he was appointed as the nation's first Xicano poet laureate. Following 14 brilliant book, comes now one from him that seems to have been waiting to come forth for some time. For causes and conditions having come together for him to bring out, we can count our lucky stars. I, for one, am simply blown away.
Consider these as letters to America. For instance, the "you" in "You Just Don't Talk About It" is America. ( " Listen: you just don't // talk about it the rape the endless scrubbing washing self lacerations the never ending self whipping the deep-down smoldering stone trauma growing up crooked tree growing up silence ... " ). In their unflinching look at suffering, these letters tell us as much or more about the correspondent than of the recipient, which is how it is.
I happen to consider the book's thought-thru structure evidence that it's one long poem, one extended soul-searching session, facing the blank page with his breath, blood, and bone, as one. During the course of the journey, hhe invokes Basho and Nelson Mandela, Elias Canetti and Ko Un – moreover, is joined by countless nameless immigrants detainees deportees in the human flow of this unending century of a tragic epic of refugees.
Of its range of poetries, the poems that hit the hardest are those that just get down ( " get down to the coffee grounds " as one poet put it ), such as " Todavía estoy aquí the deported father said " in response to a photography portfolio by Jonathan Maldonado. Its depths of compassion reminds me that coffee grounds make good mulch.
Essential nourishment for survival and flourishing, in the precarious and perilous yet still precious moments of these times.
Consider these as letters to America. For instance, the "you" in "You Just Don't Talk About It" is America. ( " Listen: you just don't // talk about it the rape the endless scrubbing washing self lacerations the never ending self whipping the deep-down smoldering stone trauma growing up crooked tree growing up silence ... " ). In their unflinching look at suffering, these letters tell us as much or more about the correspondent than of the recipient, which is how it is.
I happen to consider the book's thought-thru structure evidence that it's one long poem, one extended soul-searching session, facing the blank page with his breath, blood, and bone, as one. During the course of the journey, hhe invokes Basho and Nelson Mandela, Elias Canetti and Ko Un – moreover, is joined by countless nameless immigrants detainees deportees in the human flow of this unending century of a tragic epic of refugees.
Of its range of poetries, the poems that hit the hardest are those that just get down ( " get down to the coffee grounds " as one poet put it ), such as " Todavía estoy aquí the deported father said " in response to a photography portfolio by Jonathan Maldonado. Its depths of compassion reminds me that coffee grounds make good mulch.
Essential nourishment for survival and flourishing, in the precarious and perilous yet still precious moments of these times.
December 3, 2023
I grabbed this on one of my book crawls (my Grand Rapids book crawl, at We are LIT, specifically), because I had really liked an older collection of Herrera's -- Notes on the Assemblage. Which was a good decision, as I loved this one even more!
This was so overfull with power and truth that my own words seem empty and lukewarm in comparison. One of the very first poems, "You Just Don't Talk About It," stopped me in my tracks and let me know what to expect from the collection. Except this isn't just anger and injustice and calling to account, it is also grappling with identity and humor and empathy and glints of hope as well.
A moving and indicting plea for dignity.
This was so overfull with power and truth that my own words seem empty and lukewarm in comparison. One of the very first poems, "You Just Don't Talk About It," stopped me in my tracks and let me know what to expect from the collection. Except this isn't just anger and injustice and calling to account, it is also grappling with identity and humor and empathy and glints of hope as well.
A moving and indicting plea for dignity.
June 18, 2024
Unfortunately, the title is the best wordplay this book has to offer.
I assume the author’s decision to write everything in free verse in unpunctuated, conjoined sentences was deliberate in order to convey the chaos and constant uprooting and motion that characterizes the immigrant experience. In practice, however, it makes the work hard to read.
I also judge poetry by an author’s ability to say things in a unique way. That is, to say something in a way that I would think myself capable of saying, but still resonates with me. Herrera’s style feels to simplistic. For example, “Touch the Earth (Once Again)” doesn’t feel like prose at all, but merely a list.
I respect the author’s intent to highlight and draw attention to the humanity of immigrants and I don’t mean to insult him as a person. I just wouldn’t recommend this book.
I assume the author’s decision to write everything in free verse in unpunctuated, conjoined sentences was deliberate in order to convey the chaos and constant uprooting and motion that characterizes the immigrant experience. In practice, however, it makes the work hard to read.
I also judge poetry by an author’s ability to say things in a unique way. That is, to say something in a way that I would think myself capable of saying, but still resonates with me. Herrera’s style feels to simplistic. For example, “Touch the Earth (Once Again)” doesn’t feel like prose at all, but merely a list.
I respect the author’s intent to highlight and draw attention to the humanity of immigrants and I don’t mean to insult him as a person. I just wouldn’t recommend this book.
August 19, 2021
This is a really good looking, well designed book. So it was kind of a disappointment that the contents felt kind of bog standard. Herrera apparently went on a kind of journey around the US-Mexico border to report on what he sees, and that report is these poems. But it felt a little more like journalism than poetry to me, journalism with somewhat unmotivated line breaks, etc.
I feel like I've read this book a half dozen times already, and some of those books, like Eduardo Corral's, somehow did more to transform and elevate these experiences.
I feel like I've read this book a half dozen times already, and some of those books, like Eduardo Corral's, somehow did more to transform and elevate these experiences.
March 8, 2022
I recently heard Herrera speak, and I was moved to buy this book. It is full of hope but also realistic observations. The poems vary in length, form, and language. It is the sort of poetry book that makes me whay.to.photograph the pages and share them with friends. I think most poetry loves will enjoy these poignant, subtlety spiritual poems.
December 20, 2021
Collection of poetry around Latino illegal immigration, experiences, and relationships. Weaves English and Spanish together throughout many poems with some having full translations. Interesting collection of different poetry styles, although the poems seemed more... restrained than I would have expected given the subject matter.
October 15, 2020
Sorry -- I just don't get contemporary poetry, by and large... There are some lovely turns of phrase in this volume...and some wonderful images...but, on the whole, it just didn't appeal to me.
February 28, 2023
While I deeply appreciate the foundations of this book, I couldn’t connect to his poems/writing style. I did appreciate that there were poems written in English and Spanish.
May 25, 2021
I enjoyed and appreciated this bilingual collection of poetry that reminded me of the struggles so many go through in the hopes of a better life in the U.S. The seventy-seven pages passed quickly, but I am still thinking about their powerful messages. I will definitely look for other books by this United States Poet Laureate. I am thankful this book had a front and center position on the new book display at the public library.
August 7, 2021
It was so easy to read this book of poetry by Juan Felipe Herrera. The poems are short and pack a punch, all about the immigrant experience. I enjoyed Herrera's use of repetition in his poems, I feel like he really has mastered this technique in his poetry and really drives his messages into the core of your heart. The fact that some poems are in both Spanish and English is lovely too, and adds a lot of depth of the poems. I imagine I'll be coming back to read this one.
January 5, 2022
[…]
America are you listening
my father walked to the ocean waters with a jar
in his hand bowed down & filled it & said
“This will heal you”
i did not know how to melt how to fall into another body
spoke a language you could not hear
listened to stories you never told
sang songs you did not sing
had my own way of tracking the sun
[…]
used to think I was not American enuf
now it is the other way around
America are you listening
my father walked to the ocean waters with a jar
in his hand bowed down & filled it & said
“This will heal you”
i did not know how to melt how to fall into another body
spoke a language you could not hear
listened to stories you never told
sang songs you did not sing
had my own way of tracking the sun
[…]
used to think I was not American enuf
now it is the other way around
February 13, 2021
I enjoyed reading this poetry collection, especially because of the way Herrera formats each poem, so that sometimes, your eyes have to jump from one word to the next and zigzag down the page. I also like the way it's divided into multiple sections, with brief prose-poems or quotations at the beginning of each.
July 7, 2021
there are some really stunning poems in this collection. most i read through pretty quickly, but some knocked me out and left me speechless, particularly 'you just don't talk about it.' i loved the way spanish was incorporated, i loved the way sentences bled into others and the way it captured the harsh reality of migrants in the us.
February 18, 2022
A strong collection of political poems, as the title implies. Herrara's strong poetic language gives voice to the struggling and the people who are pawns in the midst of political upheaval here and elsewhere. He keeps his response very human, very hopeful, never losing sight of the people in the midst of these turbulences, people who are just trying to survive and find better lives.
May 19, 2022
I loved the bilingual poems, and the weaving of Mexican and Indigenous identities. I think it's something that los estadounidenses forget a lot--hispanic heritage includes pre-hispanic heritage too. Many of the poems were difficult for me to get on the same wavelength with, but the few that I connected with were lovely.
November 28, 2022
Beautiful collection of very empathetic free verse. Herrera articulates migrant strife viscerally, often referencing real people’s stories. The collection has a flow to the reading; Herrera does a great job of creating rhythm in his rumination, connected by gorgeous motifs and rooted in a wholesome humanity.
January 21, 2021
I am not an expert on poetry by any means, but I thought this poetry collection was fine. It wasn't blown away, but I also thought this was still a good work of poetry. Heavy on social justice, indigenous, and immigration themes, I appreciated reading Herrera's work.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 61 reviews