Silent Uprising
Valorie Valencia
Mexicana
They say I should have a boyfriend
Who wears a gold chain, praises santa Maria and
Escaped a gun fight when he had the balls to shoot first.
He’s supposed to be my mundo. We love
Like fire and wind. I ignore his violence and
The machismo because those moments of
Tender amor are all I need to
Know I’m lucky and he loves me
We drink corona all day and smoke
Weed before crawling under the sheets.
Somehow, I always look great:
Liner darkens my lips and my eyes, gold hoops
hang from my ears like nooses in a closet.
They say I’m supposed to be at home
Pregnant, buttering tortillas for the other
Two kids while abuela lovingly scolds, and
my man works on the hydraulics of the ‘63 Impala
That he loves more gently than me
They say I am Mexican
Well, the taste of tortillas and a bowl full
Of beans and cheese are the amor de mí vida and
Chorizo con papas are my squeeze on the side
My face eyes and hair are in the same shades
As the soil we tend, the dirt under our nails
And the ground cities rise from
I do laugh loud and step like I’m killing cucarachas
When the banda comes on
I do have grandparents who left their warm southern pueblos
And came to this northern land with hope
In their eyes and pride in their hearts.
They say I am Mexican
Forever by blood, by color, by voice
I am bound to ancestors who lived
In a form of freedom that makes
The colorless empire express an itch
I will be only me, I am who I am
But never in the narrow self-comforting way
They want to see and say.
Talking to My Dog
The dog watches me
From the other end of the room like I’m the
Most wonderful
Most beautiful
Greatest person in the world.
I want to tell him to stop.
I’m not all that, I say.
I’ve shot words coated in honey
To stab holes into the innocents around me
I’ve twisted hearts and souls in my hands
So they’d bent to my will
Or break under my spell.
My family faced mock scorn and blame
And had to bury themselves behind walls
For these choices I made.
I’ve stolen and cheated and let
Others pay the price for my crimes.
I’ve tortured myself and choked
On pity until my throat bled.
He rests his chin on his paws and
Continues to gaze with hazelnut eyes.
Don’t you see! I cry
I’m a villain--a fiend--
Far from the hero you deem
No better than anyone else and
Worse off than most you would know.
Another could take you out on more walks
And throw the ball with you, too.
They wouldn’t get mad when you
Steal the pillows or beg for scraps under the table--
You’d better be gone.
He lifts his head and--
Despite what scientists say-- I
Could have sworn he defied me then.
His tail thumped on the floor in
Response to my gasp. He stretched,
Approached where I sat and
Pushed his nose under my hand,
Gaze always unbreaking:
It’s okay, I’m
Not always good, too.
I started to weep.
His canine primitive eye saw
More than my evolved superior sight
And I understood why dogs could be trained
To help guide the blind on their way.
Bio: