THE 44TH OF JULY BY JASWINDER BOLINA
Jaswinder Bolina’s latest book, The 44th of July, surrounds readers with the current climate of our divided country. His speakers shifts from witness to outsider to stealth transgressor, while his poems move quietly—measured and musical—with rhythms so deft the criticisms and wit unfold unexpectedly. Through his deliberate and attentive forms, he echoes the strategic footwork immigrants and POC master to navigate and survive the United States—though, Bolina underlines not everyone survives: “assemble // the tiny caskets, / the toddler-shaped // ones” from “Inaugural Ball,” and here from “Rubble Causeway, Rubble Clinic”: “leave her body for the crows, / but the morgue is still there with its bone show.” The 44th of July denies readers an indifferent oblivion and escape from the political consciousness and horror of today, yesterday, and tomorrow. The collection refuses blind-eyes, even when reminiscing in “In Memory of My Vices,” even when world building the fantastical in “New Adventures in Sci-Fi.” For the latter, see how Bolina manifests a utopia neatly before us by contrasting it to the American dystopia: “Everybody has a porch swing the beat cops wave to // when they pass. They don’t protect us bloody. / They don’t police the teeth out of our heads . . .”
His representations of this nation are vivid, chilling and accurate—balanced but made all the more real by the humor. Bolina rewrites the so-called American Independence from marginalized perspectives, highlighting the harm meant for the other; delivered by speakers on the margins, in the heart of the Midwest.
—Review by Madeline Vardell