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.
