
by Rachael Wilderman
Q: Would you consider yourself first a poet, then a novelist/short story writer, or vice versa?
A: A poet. I’ve always written poetry…
Q: What are you currently working on?
A: I have three books in progress, a short story collection, a novel, and a new collection of poems. Changing genres keeps me energized!
Q: There is irony in that you are a voice for other Cuban Americans living in
exile, speaking against the myth of an American dream that you yourself have achieved, having come to the USA in 1974. What are some central messages your work conceptualizes? Also, who are your influences?
A: I am influenced by everything, including art magazines and television… big fan of HBO where characters can curse and use REAL language. My work concerns itself not so much with exile, though that’s a central issue,
For me poetry is a way of survival, of bringing meaning to my life. I believe only in poetry. Poetry is truth. Poetry is what keeps me human.
but with the realities of being an outsider to a dominant culture or mainstream. If you write poetry or fiction, you MUST read poetry or fiction, or preferably both!
Q: Since most people say “there is no money in poetry,” have you found you are able to “live off your art,” using your novels as a way to pay the bills, and writing poetry or short stories in your spare time? Do you find that the experience of working a “real” job (including blue collar,) makes your work more accessible to every day readers who might not have had the opportunity to attend high school or study in the University?
A: No, no poet in this country can live off his work. With a few exceptions, i.e., Allen Ginsberg and a few others, most poets cannot make a living from their art.
Q: How much of your work would you consider of the ethnic literary genre? Do you consider yourself an ethnic poet? Talk about this sense of identity as a cultural soul, and how it influences or fights against the artistic individualization of a writer.
A: No, I consider myself a poet in the world focusing on my experiences being an immigrant to a new land.
Q: What caused the shift from being a novelist and moving your focus to an emphasis on writing poetry; why have you decided that this is a more suitable medium for your work?
A: I’ve done both. I like publishing in all sorts of different genres, which is the reason why I admire writers like Joyce Carol Oates.
Q: Do you see potential in the future for poetry as an authentic medium for the “people,” untainted by the entertainment industry, cliché, and defense mechanisms, (which cloud artistic development in subgroups who value poetry as an effective medium and a reactionary, resistance art form against the dominant culture in the USA,) that a people’s poetry will one day be considered valid and valued by the Academy, when aspiring to a merging with the technique mastered in the mainstream western canon, so that poetry is not exclusive to either group, (the people—now reading on BET, or the “poets,” found in prestigious reviews?) For example, merging spoken word/ performance art and visual poetry, as with your word choices in Poem to Eliades Ochoa and Cuarteto Patria’s Rendition of “Saludo Compay,” “vayven” of the carretas,” and “at night the moths flock…and the slap-zap of those paddles,” from Vespers on the Anniversary of my Father’s Death, or, say, a person who works a factory job can write directly on the experience and his readers can relate, or even Oprah and book clubs, keeping books alive, bridging the gap between people and poetry.
A: For me poetry is a way of survival, of bringing meaning to my life. I believe only in poetry. Poetry is truth. Poetry is what keeps me human.
Q: In Brazil Creative Writing and Literature are not offered in schools as a major or as coursework. How do you think this affects the technique of ethnic literature and poetry in general, specifically in countries where one must attend workshops or create their own personal curriculum, and could this be seen as a more “pure” poetry?
A: Creative Writing is an American phenomenon. It’s a way of culturally legitimizing an art form in a country that does not believe in the Arts.

Born in Havana, Cuba in 1962, Virgil Suarez came with his family to the USA in 1974, and having graduated and received an MFA in Creative Writing he has published four novels: Latin Jazz, The Cutter, Havana Thursdays, and Going Under, along with a series of short stories entitled Welcome to the Oasis. Suárez has also authored seven collections of poetry, the most recent being 90 miles: Selected and New Poems. A featured poet in a past issue of Valparaiso Poetry Review, Edward Byrne commented that “a persistent focus on the experiences of an immigrant’s existence and an expatriate’s memories of pre-Castro Cuba has always been central to Suárez’s poetry.” Virgil speaks to “the trials of the universal immigrant traveling the bi-cultural highway in pursuit of the American Dream after his family came to this country in 1974,” (Going Under bio) as well as social mobility, Miami’s fast-pace and Cuban personality, through his cinematic style he narrates the human tragic comedy. Suárez teaches Creative Writing and Latino and Caribbean Literature at FSU.
You can find his work online on the following sites:


