me in my luchadoras gear ready to go into my second job
I channel the luchadoras before me the ones who had to work in the chacras to provide for their families, the ones who had to work with their bare hands to build generational wealth the ones who survived infidelities, abuse, and tragedies and still came out on top as Queens the ones who never had the option to lay down and princess to be doted on, be taken care of they had to become working class luchadoras for the betterment of themselves and their families
I wrote this poem in January of 2024 for my friend Rosie who died in 2023.
me right after I wrote this poem
it was a wintry and rainy day in Georgia when last goodbyes were exchanged between you and and your boys you were thousands of miles away in Texas, in your hospice bed I imagine you were full of peace in your last conscious moments finding comfort in your faith and accepting this was part of God’s plan but I-I carried rage that you were leaving everyone behind rage your husband would become a widower, rage your sons would grow up without a mom rage for the grief of everyone who would have to live without you rage that on the 29th of June, there wouldn’t be a random happy birthday from you for William, Miguel and all of the babies in our July mommy group born on that date rage that I didn’t get to know you better and that rage broke my brain, and I drove without a destination maybe it was your spirit that led me back to the safety of my boys but almost a year later I still carry that rage of how I don’t understand why God took you you who still had more than love to give and receive you who was the warmth of a sunny day in human form What was the purpose of your sudden departure?
this is inspired by the 2006 poem, “did I ask for your advice”
well meaning unsolicited advice and opinions from others Made me feel like I was a failure like I wasn’t doing enough to better myself it always comes after a life changing event- a new baby, marriage, and most recently my divorce In my 20s it drove me crazy In my 40s I nod, smile, take whatever is helpful and move on
my life flashed before my eyes as a fog took over my mind and body What would happen to my ex? What would happen to my kids? they can’t function without me I’m the one who makes sure the rent and electricity get paid I’m the one who always takes the initiative to better our family I’m the one who’s trying to break generational curses so my kids don’t suffer as much as I did my life flashed before my eyes, and I mentally prepared a list in my head of every one of my children’s milestones i would miss out on if God took me now and as the fog finally started to lift I thanked God for his mercy and understood the message from the universe I really need to take better care of myself my health can never be taken for granted I’m too important for my family, my friends to learn to live without me this was my great awakening
another new year is here another season of my life will soon be renewed more chances for new experiences and adventures more opportunities to fuck things up and give fodder to the inner critic in me to emotionally beat me up more time to question myself am I doing enough for me and my kids to prosper more moments of joy and laughter with my boys as they get older and continue to find their autonomy more grief and sadness as the working class and marginalized communities continue to be stepped on more memories made that ignite a spark of creativity within me another new year another transformation under construction
Entre la espada y la pared me encuentro otra vez es tiempo para otra evolución, otro renacimiento pero me siento cómoda donde estoy me siento tranquila aqui donde no tengo que dar explicaciones a nadie pero el universo tiene otros planes para mi pronto vendrá alguien o algo que me moverá el piso y denuevo caeré en el caos sin querer queriendo
the real tragedy is no one has gotten me this cake yet
ancestor, ancestor- which alcohol goes best with making shitty life decisions ancestors says, not the PBR, not the michelob ultra light, it’s too basic of an energy for the kind of epic shitty life decisions you tend to make don’t reach for the margarita wine either, too obvious, too much of a cliche and you already have plenty of them in your poetry Go for the Guiness six pack make your shitty life decisions with some English class since most of your terrible decisions tend to include some asshole whose ancestors are colonizer Englishmen
take slow breaths and wash your hands you’re fine, you’re okay in fact you’re more than okay you’re fucking wonderful darling this moment of intense grief and anxiety reminds you that you’re human and you can’t always play the role of strong and resilient Queen in front of the world sometimes you have to pause, calm down, breathe and let everything out be vulnerable, be soft this is how you start to feel integrated and whole
erotic stories from my ancestors are still seen in the caves and uncovered in archaeological digs people intertwined in every imaginable position- showing their sexual pleasure shamelessly- it makes the American and Colonizer catholic girl in me blush and say, damn, the Incas were some kinky people
I swipe and swipe on anyone who looks appetizing, on anyone who looks interesting and then the messages swarm in- I must be honey to the bees who buzz and buzz around me and I’m not impressed Hey, beautiful says the guy with his catch of day in his profile pic – Are you DTF? Says the zoomer almost young enough to be my son-ew-blocked insert a pretentious line with a quote From a Wallace Stevens poem , it’s the Genxer who’s gross-ethically non monogamous- I must not have been paying attention while I was swiping And the messages keep coming And I’m overwhelmed by the amount of them and underwhelmed by quality of them and I’m nauseated and want to vomit at the thought of giving any of these men an ounce of my energy maybe a past version of me would have given them a chance but this new and empowered version of me Nah, none of them seem worthy so I deactivate my profile and uninstall the app Understand I’m too evolved to find love online and put my trust in the universe that one day The right guy will find me and I won’t even have to try and until that time comes, I’ll keep being an independent Peruvian Queen Focusing on myself and my kids without any mediocre energy trying to intervene
It’s time to say goodbye to the notion of love I know I’ve said this more times than I can count but this time, I really mean it lately, I prefer my life of solitude the one where I’m my own hero, my own savior And I don’t wait for anyone to validate my worth it’s so calm, it’s so peaceful it’s actually bullshit the romantic girl in me can’t be cured
my family is quiet about their sorrows they put up a mask of strength and resilience its not that they hide their tragedies they talk about it openly but heal with energy from the trees, with their busy and monotonous routines on their farm with the understanding that terrible things happen in their lives and finding resilience in the most extenuating of tragedies in order to move forward
me and my ex drive towards the moon in silence accepting we were always meant to be friends no longer harboring resentment about our failed story of romance Focusing on the long road ahead of us Divorced and raising kids in a world full of oxymorons, in a world that will try to make them fit into unrealistic expectations of what it means to be human me and my ex drive towards the moon in silence putting away our differences and any conflicts And putting our childrens’ best interest first understanding they’re the best thing to come out of the failure of us
my culture is not up for appropriation, my culture is not up for colonizers to profit off from it I can hear my ancestors cursing in their graves haunting white people in their dreams over the atrocity they’re committing it’s blasphemous to use their most sacred ceremony for the business of “healing” why must white people in 2023 continue to steal from the indigenous community? it’s the same white people who forced assimilation on us the same white people who made us give up our religion and traditions the same white people who shamed us for our indigenous traits and the reason I don’t know how to speak quechua today why can’t the white man stay in his lane instead of trying to profit from our culture and the insecurities of others how is it possible that in this day and age these so called enlightened and elitist whites are still fucking over the indigenous community?
I have a bad habit of making poetry out of almost anything it’s annoying, it’s cringe, and downright embarrassing at times how shameless I can be it teethers between the line of genius and insanity This monster of creativity of mine from trauma to my kids to childhood memories To the latest villain in my story to office supplies To my dreams to the trees to the clouds To my kroger apron to energy drinks To that ex from my 20s No one and nothing is saved from being used as a fountain of inspiration for my creativity Sometimes it’s a curse, sometimes it’s a blessing Most of the time, it’s just downright entertaining
