This Body, is a journey about transition while facing the challenges of complicated intersectionalities. Andrés discusses their experiences with trauma, mental health, suicidal ideation, substance use, family, relationships, and healing.
Beautiful, intimate work. Sanchez honors readers with an intimate glimpse into his personal experiences. I don't really care much for poetry. It just doesn't sit well with me since I failed quizzes on poetry analysis in grade school. This Body was written for everyone. Whether you read it to learn or to relate, it is an absolute pleasure to step into Sanchez's world. The experience felt very much like a Dante-Virgil situation. Sanchez holds your hand as he walks you through the most vulnerable moments of his life and the memories that have shaped the person he has become. You don't have to "know" poetry to enjoy this collection!
Raw and beautiful. I actually had the pleasure of seeing Andy read some of his poetry at a small cafe in East LA and I was blown away by the beauty of his words. So when I saw that he had a book coming out of his poetry, I knew I had to have it and it does not disappoint! His words are wrought with emotion and he bares his soul in a way that makes me truly feel what he is writing about. Such important words that I’m sure many of us can relate to when it comes to heartache and trauma, but also very much his own. To open himself up in this way is so very brave and I feel truly special to be able to see a part of that. There is a lot of pain in what he writes but also hope, as you follow his journey through life in his poetry. This will be a book I’m sure I will read over and over again.
Wow. The cover of this book perfectly encapsulates its content. This is a powerful, tender tour through Andy's heart. As Andy heals within the pages, I felt myself healing alongside him: "I poured salt and honey into my wounds. / I could no longer let the pain scare me into believing / bleeding was the only way to live." Yes! Bleeding is not the only way to live. The week I read "This Body" was a particularly tough week for me and Andy's words kept me going and breathing. Vulnerability is power and strength. "This Body" is that and more. Thank you, Andy!
This poetry book is very moving. One of my favorites! It cradles readers as well as its poet in the heartfelt journey of a trans male who is searching to fully redefine himself. This Body is honest, raw, and sometimes narrated from the depths of pain. It reminds us that we all share the same struggles for acceptance, interior as well as exterior. Thus, at our cores, our bodies and minds are all the same. Not as different as we erroneously imagine. Without missing a beat, Poet Sanchez shows us that humanity and love should epitomize everyone’s essence.
In short, This Body allows some to vividly and very openly experience a different world view. Yet Poet Sanchez helps make it familiar and relatable to all on so many evocative levels. Seamlessly, he makes his book sing, come alive by vigorously drawing forth, over and over, his vulnerable and his compassionate words. Never forgetting to honor his family heritage, especially his native tongue. In those moments, his figurative language is often the most compelling.
No question, Poet Sanchez comes to realize that accepting one's self first is the only road to his true happiness and contentment. This book teaches us that self-acceptance & self-love are the infinite treasures sought by all of us. The path to our desired and destined wholeness. Which should never be denied.
One hard lesson that resounds throughout this book is that we must be our authentic selves before seeking to claim love and respect from others. Many of the love poems tell us that romantic love can make us ache with searing disappointment and loneliness. Sometimes self-loathing, numbness, and bitterness might overshadow our beings when we discover that oneness with others might seem completely elusive.
Yet Poet Sanchez still pulls no punches. He is unabashedly sensuous, pregnable, and frank about wanting love. Poet Sanchez willingly opens his wounds with metaphors even when they hurt to the depths of his and our souls. “When She Cut Watermelon” is therefore one of my favorite love poems. Other poignant gems also contain rich, unbridled, and impeccable imagery.
Then after reading the last poem in this powerful collection, we readers see Poet Sanchez triumph. We feel his poetic words confidently soaring towards his rightful path now. Towards his well-earned glory: his self-acceptance of and self-love for his whole body. Rejoice! His story has only begun! The arresting front and back cover art affirm and amplify that message.
Last but not least, abundant thanks to Poet Sanchez for dedicating this book to the LGBTQI+ community. And offering them immediate resources for self-care. Bravo!
A beautifully potent collection of heart riveting poetry, This Body invites you intimately into Sánchez's personal journey. He invites us to bring courageous visibility to the things the world tells us to hide about ourselves. The captivating imagery, the honest story telling, and the delicate craftsmanship within This Body really does invite us all to connect with our hearts and honor all the parts of our journey as moments of growth and healing. I am a huge fan of Andy's tender poetry and constantly inspired by his authentic fire. I highly recommend this moving collection of poetry.
Andrés Sánchez didn’t come here to make you feel comfortable; he came — per his personal mission — to make you consider the struggles of LGBTQ+ people.
“This book is intended to provide a snapshot of one of many stories that go unheard of in the LGBTQ+ community,” he writes in his introduction.
And with the tenderness of a flowering heart like that which adorns his front cover, he adds, “Some of the pieces can be triggering to you, the reader, so I ask you to take your time and step away if needed.”
In the five sections of his debut collection — Foundation, Lessons, Acceptance, Heartbeat, and Healing — Sánchez describes the harsh reality of growing up and living as a trans masculine, brown-skinned immigrant in the United States by way of Mexico. In this collection, Sánchez explores themes of substance abuse, toxic relationships, self-harm, trans and queer identity, inter- and intra-cultural prejudices… like I said, he didn’t come here to make you feel comfortable.
I hate the stares of Latino men. A stare so deep it makes me question whether to walk around alone. I hate the way they snarl in my face because they see “woman” trying to be “man.” (“Cock Fight”)
He asserts he cannot hide from bigotry within a culture; being a complex individual with multiple historically excluded identities lends itself to feelings of external and internal disassociation.
I’ve questioned my happiness in this body. I’ve prayed. I’ve cried because I want this body to be a masculine body. I want to be described as handsome in this body. I’ve dreamt of a safer place for this body that I have yet to find. (“This Body”)
And the emotional impact of these experiences do not go hidden under the proverbial carpet. Sánchez makes you sit with the blunt reality that marginalization, white supremacy, anti-trans bigotry all take a detrimental toll.
I want to choose this as my way out, but I don’t want my mother to think that I am ungrateful for spilling the life she gave me onto this cold basement floor. (“In Between 3 out of 100 Ways to Die”)
Romantic love appears as the driving force in chapters 2 and 4. Regardless of a reader’s gender or sexual identity, Sánchez’s words resound with universal experience. In “Stubborn Love,” from chapter 2, titled “Lessons,” Sánchez writes,
Your memory is like East Coast humidity drenching my skin. And all I want to do is wash you off.
And it appears in chapter 4, some of those “lessons” are put into practice.
Love, I cannot show you what you do not choose to see. I cannot teach you how to love the beauty in yourself. (“If Love Had Direction”)
Throughout his collection, Sánchez allows his Hispanic voice, his mother tongue, to peep through, almost like telling the reader “Do not forget my origin.” The first poem, “I Am My Roots,” sets the stage.
I came from maternal Abuelos raising me as their own for two years. From pan dulce that sweetened the days I mourned the absence of my parents.
And if his first poem set the stage, his second poem “Para Mamá Manuela” set the trajectory of the collection in stone.
drank a cerveza every morning for las vilis / remedios passed down from your abuelas and their abuelas
And in case you would forget the cultural lens through which Sánchez writes, he reminds you with one last title in Spanish, “Sabor A Ti,” toward the end of his collection.
Despite dark themes set within pieces that more often than not travel onto at least a second page, Sánchez draws back from destructive behavior (both his own and others’) by sharing silver linings, proving that not only does calm come before a storm, but it also comes afterward with titles such as “After Love, Comes Survival” and “Shame Doesn’t Live Here Anymore.” In his poem, “Sun Rise” he proudly proclaims,
I am no longer hiding under layers of cement. My limbs are green. My heart has sprouted yellow flowers that look like the sun in spring.
The Hero’s Journey, a storytelling model most famously analyzed by Joseph Campbell, explains that the Hero must travel to another world, face gruesome battles, and return a different version of themselves. Sánchez takes the reader through this journey. Poem after poem, battle after battle, one wonders “Can a dude catch a fucking break? My god!” And, indeed, it is the scars from these battles that transform Sánchez and the reader by the end of the book. His poem “Renewal” says just that:
I will not apologize for my pain. For the scars I wear unwillingly. This is my truth. These are the trials and errors.
Carrie Fischer is attributed to saying “Take your broken heart, make it into art,” and that is exactly what Sánchez accomplishes in this collection. As a reader, it is beautiful to see how the pain and trauma Sánchez experienced led to the creation of the collection. In his concluding poem, “The Poet In Me,” he writes as if writing a letter to his past self.
This glory is yours. Multiple copies printed to remind you your words are worthy of repetition. They always were; you just had to believe it.
Shelves empty. SOLD OUT signs below.
And it’s no wonder this book sold out. I can see how it might act as a survival guide for queer/trans, Latino/Hispanic, and/or individuals, regardless of cultural similarity or dissimilarity, who struggle with feelings of isolation, abuse, or shame. Sánchez essentially tells the reader, “If I survived, so can you… and I hope you do.”
What a great read! Love how Andy is vulnerable allows his readers in. He keeps you engaged and wanting to read more. I’m looking forward to the next book!