The poems in Loose Woman by Sandra Cisneros are exactly what you might expect, based on the title and the poet's photo on the back cover. Cisneros is feisty and passionate, spilling her emotions across the pages in poems such as "You My Saltwater Pearl":
You my saltwater pearl,
my mother, my father,
my bastard child,
heaven and hurt,
you my slavery of sadness,
my wrinkled heart.
Little coin of my eye,
my tulip, my tin cup,
my woman, my boy,
to keep and be kept by,
to rankle and rile.
The jacket of the book is a mesmerizing collage of Latino and religious photos and images. Much of Cisneros' poetry inside reflects on her Mexican roots. For example, the poem "You Bring Out the Mexican in Me":
You bring out the Mexican in me.
The hunkered thick dark spiral.
The core of a heart howl.
The bitter bile.
The tequila lagrimas on Saturday all
through next weekend Sunday.
You are the one I'd let go the other loves for,
surrender my one-woman house.
Allow you red wine in bed,
even with my vintage lace linens.
Maybe. Maybe.
Cisneros' poems are very intimate; they almost always address a "you" that is usually a past, current, or soon-to-be lover. She employs all the senses, pulling you into her world with lines like this from "Night Madness Poem":
In dreams the origami of the brain
opens like a fist, a pomegranate,
an expensive geometry.
If you are falling in love, getting over a bad breakup, or just in need of some saucy poetry, Loose Woman by Sandra Cisneros is just what the doctor ordered.
