This book is a collection of testimonial poems created as an act of confessionalism by the writer. It is not a pointed retribution, rather a gathering of words meant for survivalism and connection to those readers who are so inclined to participate in a type of personalized, haphazard piecemealed journey stitched by the author. It is sloppy at best, proudly unpolished, surreal to some extent and is a tapestry of truthful renditions written by a queer/bi-sexual, fiercely feminist Xicana poeta, who also happens to be a single mother, grassroots organizer and a long-time, non-traditional teacher of creative writing. To say that these combined identities do not directly contribute to what is the culmination of this book, is to lack a truth telling that denies an honest description of these respective poems. This book is about being a puta, cabrona, and an unapologetic bruja, but also about experiences that serve to confuse, discombobulate and incrementally provide a type of dying that is, ironically enough, a fuel for the act of living. My Heart is a Pomegranate/Mi Corazon es una Granada is a juicy little slice of fruit bleeding onto the page. It is the aftermath of a memorable hangover.