HOW TO UNDRESS A COP

In a society glutted with police shows and detective novels, it is perhaps surprising that more tales of law enforcement have not found their way into poetry. But Cortez, winner of the PEN Texas Literary Award, is about to tip those scales. Her sassy debut of mostly first-person poems comes to us from the unique perspective of a female police officer: drawing deeply on her experiences as a deputy constable in Houston’s Harris County, as well as her Mexican-American roots, Cortez writes convincingly on the charged topics of lust, fear, and home. Throughout, the voice we hear is both strong and accessible: “I want you. / On the hood of my patrol car, / legs spread, / ready and hard” or “O sweet / sweet ballistic vest with adjustable Velcro straps, / trauma plate, and CoolMax carrier liner, save me.” Much of the volume’s humor comes through Cortez’s attention to the nuances of language—from an officer boyfriend interpreting her bra size as “34 Bravo” to a list of the only words her Mexican “Dream Man” need know: “ ‘aqui,’ ‘alla,’ ‘ahorita,’ / and, of course, ‘otra vez’ ” (here, there, later, again). There are a few distractingly bad poems toward the end, but with its generally vibrant glimpse of hidden worlds, the volume should have wide appeal.

There will always be room on the shelf for “How To” guides of this nature.