Janine Joseph is a formerly undocumented poet and librettist from the Philippines. She is the author of Decade of the Brain and Driving Without a License, winner of the Kundiman Poetry Prize and da Vinci Eye award, finalist for the Oklahoma Book Award, and named an Honorable Mention for the Sheila Margaret Motton Book Prize. Her poetry, essays, and critical writings have appeared in numerous publications, including The Nation, The Atlantic, The Georgia Review, Orion, Poets & Writers, The Rumpus, The Poem’s Country: Place & Poetic Practice, the Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day series, and the Smithsonian’s “What It Means to Be American” project. Her commissioned work for the Houston Grand Opera/HGOco and Washington Master Chorale includes The Art of Our Healers, What Wings They Were, “On This Muddy Water”: Voices from the Houston Ship Channel, and From My Mother's Mother. A co-organizer for Undocupoets and MacDowell Fellow, she is an Associate Professor of Creative Writing at Oklahoma State University and a 2022-2023 Dean's Distinguished Visiting Scholar at Virginia Tech. Learn more at www.janinejoseph.com

“In a time when traumatic brain injury and cognitive impairment are still heavily stigmatized, Joseph uses her poetry to describe the scrambled mind and memory loss.”
—Kendra Winchester, Book Riot

"Decade of the Brain is a deeply intelligent, often sensory, book about the demanding act of healing, of reorientation, of getting through—be it injury, trauma, immigration, or love: “I hear the seeds I planted are birds now,” Joseph writes in “Tell Me of Paradise.” And what more could one ask for but to witness such metamorphosis."
—Nicole Lachat, Southern Indiana Review

“Through formal variety and with thematic intensity, [Joseph] ruminates on her protracted recovery from a traumatic car accident and her journey to U.S. citizenship. … These inventive poems pack a punch.”
—Rebecca Foster, Shelf Awareness Starred Review

“Decade of the Brain resides at the intersection of powerful currents. The collection is an authoritative feminist statement and an immigrant’s story. It advocates for the 18 percent of Americans who live with visible and nonvisible forms disabilities. It reminds us all that, inevitably, we will be made vulnerable by power structures, and it behooves us to think of the wisdom of our empathy to hold power structures accountable when, where, and while we can.”
—Benjamin Landry, VerseCurious Podcast

“Janine Joseph’s Decade of the Brain tracks the agony, bewilderment, and repetitiveness of traumatic brain injury and its long aftermath.”
—Cindy Juyoung Ok, Harriet Books

“Joseph effectively instills a sense of frustration and desperation in the reader that is palpable. She writes of an experience, thought, or memory, and then questions it.  Psychologically, the reader is taken through these ups and downs in memories with her.”
—Holly Cian, West Trade Review

“It’s the mark of the ability of Joseph—an intelligent and careful author—that she is able to paint a portrait of insufficiency so sufficiently. It’s the poetry of the beginning of days and the poetry of the ends of days, that first half hour and last half hour of the day are hardest to see, as we wipe the sleep from our eyes and then, again, struggle to keep them open, spending all that time at home but unfocused.”
—B.A. Van Sise, New York Journal of Books.

"Janine Joseph is a virtuoso of refraction and reflection, resisting metaphor in favor of immediate and vivid description in this remarkable account of a life-changing injury and the effort to recover memory, language, self. Formally inventive, these poems stay awake to the complexities of the human mind even in the midst of recovery from trauma, the way words are always slippery and elusive when we need them most to be solid objects. A fascinating, moving collection."
—D.A. Powell

“In this stunning collection, Janine Joseph illustrates for us how to build the self after immense trauma. What remains and what must be transfigured? The self here is the red-blooded body, the brown body, the existential I. We are guided through by the poultice of memory, sound and the lean and absolute power of the line.”
—Sarah Gambito