About a Memoir, Some Poems, and That Insane Border Wall

When I finish a book in a day, you know it’s good.

Yesterday, I stopped by the library to pick up one of my books on hold: The Line Becomes a River: Dispatches from the Border by Francisco Cantú. Our book club wanted a nonfiction book for November, and I’d recommended it based on a review. Cantú had been a US Border Patrol agent and his memoir looks at those years (2008–2012, plus a bit of time before and after). You know I’m a procrastinator, so I needed to get started reading right away. What I didn’t expect was that, once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

The Line Becomes a River is a fundamentally sad book. Cantú is just a kid (yes; a 23-year-old is just a kid, especially to a mother) and his service in la migra affected him mightily. What he manages to do quite eloquently in this recounting is humanize everyone while graphically illustrating the inhumanity of today’s border politics.

Another Round of Blackout Poetry

When I finished Cantu’s memoir, I knew I had to revise one of my poems. No. 33, “No Wall,” was written as part  of this spring’s #100dayprojectblackout challenge. I’d never been happy with it; the words weren’t right and my artwork hadn’t come close to what I’d envisioned. So “No Wall,” shown here, was on my redo list.

No. 33 “No Wall” (original)

bullshit

couldn’t control

the tremor

there’s an avalanche brewing

they want a wall

their multimillion hell

I don’t know exactly how

but no

because we care

I’d intended for that illustration to look like a wall of bricks, some missing, topped by razor wire. The words? Meh. Something about them wasn’t quite right. So I pulled out a fresh page (133 from Artemis by Andy Weir and, yes, I’ve bought multiple copies) and set to work.

First, I revamped the words. Honestly, I’m still not happy–I think it’s the final “because we care” that feels, um, lacking. Trite. But I hoped revising what remained might help everything feel more coherent. Maybe the sweetness would be offset by an angrier message.

No. 33 “No Wall” (new)

“Okay, this is some bullshit,”

they want a wall

guess what

hell no

why

because we care

What do you think about the change? I’m curious because the new version is short, simple, and quite belligerent, but that’s how I felt after The Line Becomes a River. I’m still not happy with those words. But there’s only so many rewrites you can do with existing text.

Next: revamping the illustration. This time, I wanted to incorporate graphic text. After marking the poem’s words, I drew “NO WALL” in big red letters. Then, I sketched rows of slats to reference the actual border wall’s newer segments. The top row is horizontally oriented; the chapter circle becomes a moon hanging in the night sky. The bottom section, with the giant “NO,” is oriented sideways. Here’s the new version:

I’m happier with this. Is “No Wall” perfect now? No. Hell no. But I’m satisfied with how these new words and images fit together. It’ll do.

Now, if only we could fix our border problem as neatly.

All of the Links

I love my Austin Public Library (but not everyone does)

The Line Becomes a River: Dispatches from the Border by Francisco Cantú

Book Review: ” A Different Perspective on the Border” by Lawrence Downes

All about my #100dayprojectblackout

Artemis by Andy Weir

“This is what the US–Mexico border looks like” (photos by John Moore, story by Kyle Almond)