On “Bad Mexican, Bad American and More”

 

José Hernán­dez Díaz

Edi­tor-in-Chief Sean Cho A.*: José Hernán­dez Díaz has long been a dis­tinc­tive voice in con­tem­po­rary poet­ry, merg­ing the sur­re­al with the deeply per­son­al. Across his col­lec­tions:The Fire Eater (Texas Review Press), Bad Mex­i­can, Bad Amer­i­can (Acre Books), The Para­chutist (Sun­dress Pub­li­ca­tions), and Por­trait of the Artist as a Brown Man (Red Hen Press): Díaz has cre­at­ed a body of work that is at once play­ful, haunt­ing, and deeply com­mit­ted to ques­tions of iden­ti­ty, place, and imag­i­na­tion. In our con­ver­sa­tion, he spoke about the evo­lu­tion of his prose poems, the bal­ance between sat­is­fac­tion and pub­li­ca­tion, and his phi­los­o­phy of teach­ing as a prac­tice root­ed in refuge and inspiration

In your 2017 Nation­al Endow­ment of the Arts fel­low­ship state­ment, you men­tioned your inter­est in writ­ing “sur­re­al, absurd, and exis­ten­tial prose poems.” Near­ly a decade lat­er, these ele­ments remain cen­tral to your work and form. For exam­ple, in your 2023 poem “José Emilio Pacheco’s Ghost and the Fly­ing Jaguar,” pub­lished in The Cincin­nati Review, the ghost of Pacheco rides a fly­ing jaguar.

In a 2024 inter­view with Poet Lore, you reflect­ed on your career evo­lu­tion: “At the begin­ning of my writ­ing career I want­ed to be known as an avant-garde Chi­cano poet who was pro­lif­ic and pas­sion­ate. Now that I have a cou­ple of books com­plet­ed and two more man­u­scripts I just fin­ished, I’m look­ing to have more of a bal­anced life, not just writ­ing, but more teach­ing and edit­ing as well.”

There seems to be an inter­est­ing con­nec­tion between your desire to be avant-garde and your poems grav­i­tat­ing toward the sur­re­al and absurd, as men­tioned in your NEA state­ment. How is your move­ment toward a more bal­anced life shap­ing the work on the page?

I think that over the years I’ve relied a lit­tle less on shock or sur­prise. Still do it plen­ty, but not sole­ly, as orig­i­nal­ly it was my main approach to prose poet­ry: the bizarre. Now, I can also appre­ci­ate an under­stat­ed prose poem, an auto­bi­o­graph­i­cal prose poem, one with no mag­ic at all, maybe more epiphany, an increased inter­est in vocab­u­lary where pre­vi­ous­ly I was more into the raw­ness of first thoughts and more stripped-down style. Ear­ly on I would rely less on edit­ing or revi­sion. I would­n’t say my work cur­rent­ly uses exces­sive revi­sion or makes you always run to the dic­tio­nary, but there is cer­tain­ly more now than in the past, that’s for sure.

As I say, I still have an ele­ment of sur­prise and won­der, less is more and raw­ness of style, but it has matured to some degree in my own assess­ment of the writ­ing over the years. I’ve also noticed in my ear­li­er works the speak­er was more like­ly to smoke a cig­a­rette or use alco­hol, where the more recent speak­ers rarely if ever drink or smoke, sim­i­lar to my cur­rent situation.

In your edi­to­r­i­al state­ment for the online cre­ative writ­ing edu­ca­tion com­mu­ni­ty Pock­etM­FA, you dis­cussed how your back­ground shapes your atti­tude toward writing:

Grow­ing up first-gen, low-income I had to work hard and stay pos­i­tive as I pro­gressed through life. I try to main­tain a sim­i­lar atti­tude with writ­ing, teach­ing, and edit­ing. Prob­lems can be worked through and ulti­mate­ly sat­is­fac­tion and/or pub­li­ca­tion can be reached.”

I was par­tic­u­lar­ly struck by your delin­eation of “sat­is­fac­tion and/or pub­li­ca­tion can be reached.” This seems to sub­tly posi­tion pub­li­ca­tion not as the ulti­mate goal but rather as one pos­si­ble avenue where a poem might land.

Giv­en your impres­sive pro­duc­tiv­i­ty as a poet, as a result of your tal­ent and work eth­ic, with recent col­lec­tions includ­ing The Fire Eater (Texas Review Press, 2020), Bad Mex­i­can, Bad Amer­i­can (Acre Books, 2024), The Para­chutist (Sun­dress Pub­li­ca­tions, 2025), and Por­trait of the Artist as a Brown Man (Red Hen Press, 2025) how are you think­ing about pub­li­ca­tion’s impor­tance and its sep­a­rate but par­al­lel rela­tion­ship to your writ­ing practice?

It might seem strange to hear that from me, but pub­li­ca­tion is not nec­es­sar­i­ly the goal. It is fine and icing on the cake, but the main goal is for a poem or prose poem to meet its full poten­tial. Once I feel a poem sounds, looks, and reads well, that is enough for me to be sat­is­fied. Of course, I would be lying if I said I did­n’t enjoy pub­li­ca­tion, but so long as I feel per­son­al­ly sat­is­fied that is the key because I can’t con­trol edi­tors or their sub­jec­tive tastes; so why both­er with that stress?

Of course, as I say, some things are eas­i­er said than done, and I am flesh and bone, ego, etc., like every­one else. So some­times I won­der why a poem isn’t picked up yet, but they usu­al­ly land, and if they don’t, maybe I will look it over, but it does­n’t always mean that a poem isn’t fin­ished or done or qual­i­ty just because it is not pub­lished to me. It has hap­pened where work gets passed up due to space, sub­jec­tive taste, oth­er rea­sons. With that said, I usu­al­ly get my work pub­lished most of the time. Maybe 90 to 95 per­cent of the poems I sub­mit. Some­times, I’ll even go back to look at work that nev­er land­ed and edit it if nec­es­sary and resub­mit to give it more “wow” fac­tor if pos­si­ble and they will even­tu­al­ly get pub­lished. But it is impor­tant to always keep in mind, for me, the goal is per­son­al sat­is­fac­tion with the poem; but that usu­al­ly means a poem is “pub­lish­able” or “sound” anyway.

You men­tioned your inter­est in pur­su­ing a more bal­anced life that includes teach­ing and edit­ing. You’ve taught cre­ative writ­ing at The Uni­ver­si­ty of Ten­nessee, UC River­side, and var­i­ous inde­pen­dent writ­ing com­mu­ni­ties. I’d love to hear about your teach­ing prac­tice. What do you hope stu­dents take away from your work­shops? What does it look like to expe­ri­ence the gift of being in one of Pro­fes­sor Díaz’s classrooms?

I like for my class­room to be a place of refuge from aca­d­e­m­ic pres­sure, soci­etal hier­ar­chies, tox­ic mas­culin­i­ty, racism, homo­pho­bia, col­orism, clas­sism. My class­room is a safe, wel­com­ing space. I want writ­ers to pur­sue cre­ative writ­ing with pas­sion, not by try­ing to ful­fill an assign­ment, oblig­a­tion, or to get a high grade. I try to make writ­ing approach­able, inter­est­ing, and an over­all invig­o­rat­ing expe­ri­ence. I want my stu­dents to be wowed, ener­gized, and organ­i­cal­ly inspired by the art of writ­ing poetry.

I tend to rely on def­i­n­i­tions, close read­ings, class­room dis­cus­sion and con­crete exam­ples to explore the writ­ing of estab­lished mas­ters. I also like to incor­po­rate a gen­er­a­tive aspect to the class, not just to gain insight into writ­ing but also to under­stand as writ­ers and read­ers the approach­es to writ­ing, inspi­ra­tions, craft back­bone and/or inter­pre­tive aspect of read­ing poet­ry as well.

I also enjoy shar­ing my own expe­ri­ences as a writer with the class whether that is regard­ing sub­mis­sions, rejec­tions, MFAs, fel­low­ships, man­u­script edit­ing, revi­sion, eco­nom­ic real­i­ties, teach­ing, men­tor­ing, etc. I also want them to know that I am there for them and care about their future, not just as artists or stu­dents but as humans liv­ing in an often com­plex soci­ety as well.

Jose Her­nan­dez Diaz (he, him, his) is a 2017 NEA Poet­ry Fel­low. He is the author of The Fire Eater (Texas Review Press, 2020) Bad Mex­i­can, Bad Amer­i­can (Acre Books, 2024) The Para­chutist (Sun­dress Pub­li­ca­tions, 2025) Por­trait of the Artist as a Brown Man (Red Hen Press, 2025) and the forth­com­ing, The Light­house Tat­too (Acre Books, 2026). He has been pub­lished in The Amer­i­can Poet­ry Review, Poet­ry Ire­land Review, The Lon­don Mag­a­zine, Poet­ry Wales, The Iowa Review, The South­ern Review, The Best Amer­i­can Non­re­quired Read­ing 2011 and The Best Amer­i­can Poet­ry 2025. He has taught cre­ative writ­ing at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia at River­side, and at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Ten­nessee where he was the Poet in Residence.

*Sean Cho A. per­formed this inter­view while Lau­ren Brazeal Garza, Inter­views and Reviews Edi­tor, was on hia­tus. Lau­ren curat­ed this interview.