The Poet X

Xiomara, Xavier, and Caridad go to the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, and when the host “calls out the names on her list” (276), Xiomara hears her own name; Caridad has signed Xiomara up to perform a poem. As Xiomara waits for her turn, she watches the other poets “use their bodies and faces” (277). The crowd of 100 people claps in support when Xiomara hears her name, and when she is “done / saying a poem I’ve practiced / in the mirror, they clap” (279). Xavier tells her that she “‘killed that shit’” (279), and the host of the open mic invites her to a youth slam to be held in February, the same one Ms. Galiano mentioned in poetry club. At home, Xavier “keeps turning to me in our room, / his face glowing” (281) with pride and joy, and “[t]he whole weekend [Xiomara] relive[s] the open mic” (283). In poetry club, the following week, Xiomara tells everyone that she performed at an open mic, and they all “seem amazed” (286). On the last day of school before winter vacation, Ms. Galiano tells Xiomara that she’s “really blossoming” (287), and Xiomara agrees, knowing that her “poetry has become something [she’s] proud of” (287).

On Christmas Eve, Xiomara goes to Midnight Mass with Xavier and Mami; when she gets home, she goes straight to her room, not expecting presents after the conflicts of the previous weeks. She is surprised when Mami enters her bedroom with a gift of jewelry; Xiomara assumes it will be a rosary, but it is “a small gold plaque / with my name etched on it, / a thin gold chain / making the bracelet complete” (291). To Xiomara’s surprise, Mami has had Xiomara’s baby bracelet resized so she can wear it now.

Xiomara acknowledges in a poem that “[t]he week after Christmas is the longest week of [her] life” (293). While waiting for school to start again, Xavier texts frequently with Caridad. Xiomara writes, reads, and edits her own work so often, she “begin[s] memorizing [her poems] by accident” (293).

On January 8, which is her and Xavier’s birthday, the twins swap gifts, and Xavier gives her another leather notebook. Distracted by her anticipation that this day will be a good day, Xiomara leaves her old notebook on the kitchen table. She doesn’t notice the notebook is missing until she gets to poetry club; as Xiomara prepares to leave the meeting in time to get to the church where Mami will be waiting for her, still believing she is attending confirmation class, Xiomara hears a voicemail from Mami that “spears ice into [her] bones” (299). Xiomara rushes out of the club meeting, knowing she will have to face Mami’s anger once she gets home.

When Xiomara arrives home, Mami’s rage makes Xiomara “shrink in the eyes of her wrath” (301). Mami has read her poems, the ones that Xiomara has written “for the people to read…without feeling guilt” (301). Xiomara is sorry “[t]hat she found it, that I wrote it, that I ever thought / my thoughts were mine” (302) but that doesn’t stop Mami from trying to destroy Xiomara’s poems by lighting the notebook on fire with a match. As Xiomara tries to save her poems, Mami “slaps me back hard onto my ass” (305), breaking Xiomara’s recently-resized bracelet. As Mami recites Bible passages, Xiomara recites her own verses, “heaving the words like weapons from my chest; / they’re the only thing I can fight back with” (305). Xavier and Papi interfere and save the notebook, but Xiomara is so upset that she leaves the apartment abruptly, with “nowhere to go / and nothing left” (313). She texts Aman, finally responding to his many apology messages, to see if he is free to meet her, and she calls Caridad to ask her to help Xavier, but she doesn’t explain what has happened.

Xiomara waits for Aman on 168th Street. They walk together, holding hands, until Xiomara notices Aman is cold, wearing only a thin top and no socks. She suggests they go to his apartment, and “he raises both his perfect eyebrows” (320). As they go up the stairs to Aman’s apartment, Xiomara thinks that “[a]ll the time we were together and happy I avoided coming here” (321). Once inside, Aman puts on “slow and soothing” music, and Xiomara tells him about what happened and that her poems “are a pile of ashes” (322). He says nothing, then “pulls [her] to him” (322). While embracing, they apologize to each other; as they kiss, Xiomara feels “b e a u t i f u l b e a u t i f u l / beautiful” (324), but when they are at a point where they’re “lying on the couch / and he’s on top of me” (326), she tells him they need to stop. She feels overwhelmed with feelings, including guilt “because he looks so / frustrated” (327), but the panic subsides as she thinks through “the knots inside” her (327). Xiomara is tearful, expecting Aman to call her what “girls get called in this moment” (328), but he simply wipes away her tears. Together, they cook food and watch YouTube videos, then doze off together in Aman’s living room.

In English class the next day, Ms. Galiano notices that Xiomara is “wearing the same outfit as yesterday” (331). Xiomara’s teacher explains that she had called Xiomara’s house the day before when Xiomara ran out of poetry club so abruptly. Papi had “sounded frantic” (331) because no one knew where Xiomara had gone. Hearing that her father was worried makes Xiomara emotional, and Xiomara finds herself telling Ms. Galiano everything. Ms. Galiano hugs her and “tells [her] over and over: / ‘Just breathe. Just breathe. / It’s going to be okay. Just breathe’” (332). As Xiomara calms down, Ms. Galiano encourages her to talk with her mother and “figure out / how to make a relationship with her work” (333).

Though Xiomara is nervous and shaky at the thought of going home, she knows that she has the support of Isabelle, Ms. Galiano, Aman, Xavier, and Caridad: “although none of them can face Mami for me / I know I’m not alone” (335). On the way home from school, she stops at the church because she “know[s] assistance comes / in mysterious ways” (337), and when she comes home with Father Sean, she says to Mami that they “need to talk. / And I think we need help to do it” (338). Mami, “this woman who has been both mother and monster” (339), weeps and Xiomara hugs her, realizing that “love can be a band: / tears if you pull it too hard, / but also flexible enough/to stretch around the most chaotic mass” (340). Mami and Xiomara begin to meet with Father Sean once a week to talk; sometimes, Papi and Xavier join them, but “there’s a lot [Xavier] doesn’t say” (343).

Xiomara prepares for the poetry slam with Ms. Galiano and the other members of the poetry club. She is nervous that her poems are too personal, but Ms. Galiano tells her that “words give people permission / to be their fullest self” (345) in order to encourage her. Xiomara learns about the official rules of the slam and holds herself to her own rules, including “[d]o not give a disclaimer or introduction to your poem” (347), as well as the rules of the poetry club, including “[d]on’t suck” (348).

The week before the slam, Xiomara practices her poem in front of her family, and both she and Xavier are “nervous / about how [their] parents might react” (349). When she finishes her performance, Xavier looks happy, “Papi claps” (350), and Mami gives her unexpected advice, saying, “Speak up, Xiomara” (350). The day of the slam, Xiomara goes to the park with Aman, and after they listen to Nicki Minaj, he reads her a poem, his present to her. Aman’s poem is “short and not very good / but I still blink away tears” (352).

At the slam, Xiomara “perform[s] like [she] deserve[s] to be there” (353), and Papi is proud of her. Xiomara observes that “[t]here is power in the word” (353). At home after the slam, Aman, Caridad, and the members of the poetry club join Father Sean and Ms. Galiano at the Batista apartment for a celebration; together, they enjoy food and music. Papi asks Xiomara to dance, because it “‘is a good way to tell someone you love them’” (355).

The last piece of writing in the novel is an essay for Ms. Galiano by Xiomara about her favorite quote, which is Psalm 119:130: “The unfolding of your words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple” (356). In this essay, Xiomara writes about the metaphorical quality of the Bible that resonates with her understanding of poetry. She doubts she will “ever be as religious as [her] mother, as devout as [her] brother and best friend” (356-57), but for her, words have a power that is comparable to the power of religion and faith. She compares a poem to “[a] lantern glowing in the dark” (357) and describes “learning to believe in the power of [her] own words” (357) as “the most freeing experience of [her] life” (357).