Blue Corn Tongue

This collection describes a life woven together through the topography of the land examining elements of language, love, and family. There is a distinct point of view that encompasses the dialectical nature of belonging. Traveling alongside the poet in tender and sometimes funny moments, I found myself wanting to share these poems with friends.’—Naomi Ortiz, author of Rituals for Climate Change
 
‘McCrary’s collection is one that only she could write. It is a mixtape from a thirty-something Diné punk girl with tracks about love and friendship, but also environmental destruction and language loss.’—Casandra López, author of Brother Bullet
 
‘Blue Corn Tongue: Poems in the Mouth of the Desert is a wonder of a book full of ‘Weaving words with nostalgic tongues, heirloom futures and circular knowledge.’ Multilingual, expansive, and courageously written, these poems are an ecosystem of love and place that moves the reader through a sensory landscape of frank emotion and complex beauty. Lovers ‘maized through the rooms’ of a boarding school exhibit ‘familiar as grandma’s tortillas ‘in one poem and inhabit a space where ‘desert honey pulsates’ in another. Both strikingly original and deeply rooted, this book is a marvel to behold.’—Laura Da’, author of Instruments of the True Measure
 
‘In the middle of the desert, a woman holds a poem. And a river begins to flow. McCray’s stunning poems tell the story of the seed, the root, and the inevitable flower. Anchored in the question ‘How does language open?’ this experimental, brave, and intimate book is a must-read.’—Margarita Pintado Burgos, author of Ojo en Celo / Eye in Heat
 
 
‘Equal parts tender and defiant, McCrary’s Blue Corn Tongue laps up landscape and love alike. Propelled by a moving sensuousness, this collection reframes relations between poet, lover, relatives, and the history binding them. Through striking visuals, rich carnality, and the occasional unexpected laugh, McCrary’s work celebrates and challenges what it means to dream and desire from within O’odham Jeweḍ and Dinétah.’—Oscar Mancinas, author of To Live and Die in El Valle
 
 
‘Amber McCrary is a poet of generational talent who has written a masterful work of staggering beauty. One cannot help but read and reread Blue Corn Tongue with a sense of awe and gratitude for having witnessed, for having been gifted with a poetry that does the important work of documenting and honoring the narratives of her rich culture. I am holding something important in my hands, in this time. I am going to be holding this book close to the heart for years to come because it means that much to me.’—Truong Tran, author of Book of the Other
 
‘In Amber McCrary’s poems, the deserts are rich with sweet honey. This sumptuous debut celebrates Indigenous love, the Navajo language, corn kernels grinding on the tongue—lush life upon life. Blue Corn Tongue teaches me to indulge in intimacy, to find it essential, even as it is haunted by loss. I am thankful for this collection, which insists on remaining abundant and unashamed.’—Erin Marie Lynch, author of Removal Acts
 
‘Between canyons of love and loss and the spines of lost language, Amber’s poems emerge from a blue corn dawn with prose that must be taken like a sacrament. Profoundly intimate and raw, McCrary circumvents the assumption that the desert is devoid of life. Rather, it is a sensual place where cacti and desert plants fruit, bloom, and spill their seeds for future generations. McCrary’s meditations on language, Diné history, and reservation towns capture the duality of the desert rain, packed with torrential grief or sweet and gentle like Mother Rain. Either way, McCrary’s poems are deeply replenishing and as thrilling as a lightening streak.’—Stacie Shannon Denetsosie, author of The Missing Morningstar and Other Stories

‘Filled with stylistically innovative poems that embody place and emerge from ‘the mouth of deserts,’ Blue Corn Tongue carries both ‘generational grief’ and reclamation. McCrary’s poetry claims the Diné language and a vibrant matrilineal power through a ‘kin kind of tongue.’ These intimate poems are filled with lush, tactile images and populated with beings and beliefs that have survived colonization. Over and over, they celebrate ‘something laws cannot govern.’’—Kimberly Blaeser, author of Ancient Light and Wisconsin poet laureate, 2015–16