Puerto Rican Poetry Judith Ortiz Cofer | Martin Espada | Sandra Maria Esteves Judith Ortiz Cofer Judith Ortiz Cofer is a poet, novelist and essayist who explores the process of change and assimilation in Hispanic American culture. Her first novel, The Line of the Sun (1989), a young woman's coming-of-age story set in an impoverished village in Puerto Rico and in Paterson, N.J., prompted The New York Times Book Review to praise Cofer as "a prose writer of evocatively lyrical authority, a novelist of historical compass and sensitivity." Cofer writes and teaches in English but as a child spoke only in Spanish. She won the 1994 O. Henry Prize for Short Story, as well as the 1990 Pushcart Prize for Non-fiction for her collection of autobiographical essays, Silent Dancing. Her books of poetry include Peregrina (1986) and Terms of Survival (1987). The New York Times Book Review has recognized Cofer as "a writer of authentic gifts, with a genuine and important story to tell." Cofer is Franklin Professor of English and Creative Writing at the University of Georgia. The Other Judith Ortiz Cofer A sloe-eyed dark woman shadows me. In the morning she sings Spanish love songs in a high falsetto, filling my shower stall with echoes. She is by my side in front of the mirror as I slip into my tailored skirt and she into her red cotton dress. she shakes out her black mane as I run a comb through my closely cropped cap. Her mouth is like a red bull's eye daring me. Everywhere I go I must make room for her; she crowds me in elevators where others wonder at all the space I need. At night her weight tips my bed, and it is her wild dreams that run rampant through my head exhausting me. Her heartbeats, like dozens of spiders carrying the poison of her restlessness, drag their countless legs over my bare flesh. From Here is My Kingdom, edited by Charles Sullivan. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1994. The Changeling Judith Ortiz Cofer As a young girl vying for my father's attention, I invented a game that made him look up from his reading and shake his head as if both baffled and amused. In my brother's closet, I'd change into his dungarees -- the rough material molding me into boy shape; hide my long hair under an army helmet he'd been given by Father, and emerge transformed into the legendary Ché of grown-up talk. Strutting around the room, I'd tell of life in the mountains, of carnage and rivers of blood, and of manly feasts with rum and music to celebrate victories para la libertad. He would listen with a smile to my tales of battles and brotherhood until Mother called us to dinner. She was not amused by my transformations, sternly forbidding me from sitting down with them as a man. She'd order me back to the dark cubicle that smelled of adventure, to shed my costume, to braid my hair furiously with blind hands, and to return invisible, as myself, to the real world of her kitchen. From The Latin Deli by Judith Ortiz Cofer, New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1993. Used with permission. All rights reserved. Judith Ortiz Cofer | Martin Espada | Sandra Maria Esteves Essays + Interviews: Puerto Ricans in America | Puerto Rican Poetry | Esmeralda Santiago Essays + Interviews | Puerto Rico: A Timeline Memoir to Film | Story Synopsis | Cast + Credits Links + Bibliography | Teacher's Guide | The Forum Home | About The Series | The American Collection | The Archive Schedule & Season | Feature Library | eNewsletter | Book Club Learning Resources | Forum | Search | Shop | Feedback ©