David Campos – to prune those kids

On a large canvas is a photograph of migrant kids at a makeshift school made out of tents. In the center of the photograph is the phrase “to prune those kids” Out from that center box are 8 lines. Four lines move toward the top to four boxes aligned across the top and four lines move downward to four boxes aligned across the bottom. They indicate paths for reading. The top reads as follows: bus them away from their home school | take them to a strange place and say it’s safe | remove the dandelions bleeding through the cracks in the asphalt | explain how the drying grass of their school will spread to their feet The center reads: to prune those kids The bottom reads as follows: of their imagination | in the name (of) integration | and muffle their voices in the deep part of the cave next to your good intentions | and remember that blossoms cannot be undone

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Artist’s Statement: In the article “The Resegregation of Jefferson County,” Nikole Hannah-Jones writes that “since 2000, at least 71 communities across the country, most of them white and wealthy, have sought to break away from their public-school districts to form smaller, more exclusive ones.” This led to research into my state’s segregation and integration efforts. The rhetoric, the maps, and the data were all there—coded language, school boundaries, and even diversity statements covered the stagnant “struggle” toward integration. As an educator, this project provided context for my experience and those of the students in the classroom. Notes and citations will appear at the end of the project. 

Hermelinda Hernandez Monjaras – BRAINFØG II

The first of two images is a visual poem with a title that reads: BRAINFØG II. There is a multi-shaded gray image unfolding like a burst behind the words. The poem’s orientation is landscape. On the left-hand side of the poem, the text reads: pointed city — hooded figure — he visits a gravesite woman in a nightgown — her feet al ritmo de sones sunken y jarabes mass of mourning pale clown face of lions & bears reptile in white space man isolated — beaks, stains, & walls On the right-hand side of the poem, the text reads: death:: daylight or rather the naked eye moon:: diurnal as iguanas death hides during the moon: a frog hops death behaves through the moon: and hunts at 2am In the center of the poem, in a circle, the text reads: mi cuerpo se hizo mil pedazos. vi cuatro retratos. cuatro hombres se rien. el sueño ocupó mi cabeza. aI wip mat saket friikin ai krai in mai moust beisik form wio e iri saednes On the bottom left of the poem, the text reads: … her great-grandma (?) woke up one day and took a shower … she put on her best white dress … she never woke up again … la muerte vino por ella On the bottom right of the poem, the text reads: run over — or starved to death I carried its body — down the street flies all over — the sclera buried its eyes a pungent smell the stench of rotting meat of decay
The second of two images is a visual poem with a title that reads: BRAINFØG II. There is a multi-shaded gray image unfolding like a burst behind the words. The poem’s orientation is landscape. On the left-hand side of the poem, the text forms the shape of a box and it reads: “I went to a funder” “A distant relative passed away” “I wanted to vomit” “I walked to the casket and saw all the color and air suc ked out of her body” Inside the box, the text reads: “emotional” brain “hard” “soft” footsteps cracking In the center of the poem, there is vertical text that reads: its foot} {was stuck on the rug it fell weak} {it wobbled it refused to eat} {nectar its wings} {injured} it died} {i didn’t know how fragile} {life was {i was busy} {with work} On the right-hand side of the poem, the text forms the shape of two concentric circles, and the outer circle reads: En el Día de las Madres Abuela visita el panteón where her father, mother, and brother are buried. The inner circle text reads: I have not learned to write about grief or palpitations.

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Artist’s Statement: For The Fresno 15 Creative Writing Marathon, I used 15 Rorschach I made by dabbing a red rose with paint onto paper. This series is an attempt to write on brain fog: forgetfulness, incoherent thoughts, mental fatigue, lack of clarity, and more. Each day became a challenge: the strings attached within me were reluctant to push, create, and pull; memory became a mass of confusion to frame. Luckily, these 15 days were possible due to persistence and help from my mentor, Anthony Cody, author of The Rendering. Lastly, this series is one step forward toward my future poetic work.

David Campos – Later

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Artist’s Statement: In the article “The Resegregation of Jefferson County,” Nikole Hannah-Jones writes that “since 2000, at least 71 communities across the country, most of them white and wealthy, have sought to break away from their public-school districts to form smaller, more exclusive ones.” This led to research into my state’s segregation and integration efforts. The rhetoric, the maps, and the data were all there—coded language, school boundaries, and even diversity statements covered the stagnant “struggle” toward integration. As an educator, this project provided context for my experience and those of the students in the classroom. Notes and citations will appear at the end of the project. 

Hermelinda Hernandez Monjaras – BRAINFØG I

Visual poem with a title that reads: BRAINFØG I. There is a light gray, swirling image behind the words. The poem’s orientation is landscape. On the left-hand side of the poem, the text reads: his mouth dances in the fracture of midnight he drinks and shouts he says he will quit smoking he says he will quit life he plucks a pearl from his saliva he lays on the floor asleep my mother’s neck sinks on the ground I hear him murder her black coffee I witness him burst with laughter ants & cockroaches spread wild a faint tune passes by On the right-hand side of the poem, the text reads: her mouth aghast chewswallows abdomen shrivels everywhere the ocelli mandible protrudes jaw caterpillars a woman’s head hollows limbs femur wings muscledevice bulges torso dismembered everwhere spines On the bottom of the poem, the text reads: my fehtar gbars a kfine & smrots idisne the tub. he sbats or cuts his fegnir. He gbars a plie of pioralod potohs and traes tehm. I saenk the tron peceis idisne a bag. I get a gspmile of my mehtor. seh’s wniraeg a wtihe selevirhd sriht. his eeys are bniglug bohsdoolt. tehy are snidnatg nxet to a car. pnie teers erehwyreve.

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Artist’s Statement: For The Fresno 15 Creative Writing Marathon, I used 15 Rorschach I made by dabbing a red rose with paint onto paper. This series is an attempt to write on brain fog: forgetfulness, incoherent thoughts, mental fatigue, lack of clarity, and more. Each day became a challenge: the strings attached within me were reluctant to push, create, and pull; memory became a mass of confusion to frame. Luckily, these 15 days were possible due to persistence and help from my mentor, Anthony Cody, author of The Rendering. Lastly, this series is one step forward toward my future poetic work.

David Campos – Where the Sun Sets

The background is a black and white photograph of a row of school desks from the 50s with typewriters on it, broken down, in the middle of a dead grassy field. Diagonally across the page is the repeated phrase “on the rows.” In between them is the following poem. Each line is in between another row of “On the rows.” They close the middle school on the westside Where the sun sets on the rows of vines Of shadowing throwing on the paper Of freshly covered grapes– the paper I could tell you about raisins, but the parents Out here raising their children were told their kids will now be bussed across the city Because they closed a school and separated friends that shared their lunches together bustling with snaps of gossip and joy. Loneliness looks different colored by integration Where the sun sets

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Artist’s Statement: In the article “The Resegregation of Jefferson County,” Nikole Hannah-Jones writes that “since 2000, at least 71 communities across the country, most of them white and wealthy, have sought to break away from their public-school districts to form smaller, more exclusive ones.” This led to research into my state’s segregation and integration efforts. The rhetoric, the maps, and the data were all there—coded language, school boundaries, and even diversity statements covered the stagnant “struggle” toward integration. As an educator, this project provided context for my experience and those of the students in the classroom. Notes and citations will appear at the end of the project.