Gloria Anzaldua Talks To Me
Is that why I am having a flowofwords block,
Why only too concrete, very wrong words are coming?
Because I have the privileges, but not much to lose,
I am not exactly a white woman.
I want to to be the real hermana she writes to, the
one she visualizes under the sun,
Naked, with a typewriter on her knee
A daydream of a woman
who never
has the time for more than
her imagination
in five minute snaps.
Is it wrong to throw away the ability to transcend dangers
try out a new way to rise above, to pretend I need to,
like I have not been surviving easily, not ever thinking that
this or that,
living
could be hard.
But to try and try and try,
to repeat the same jump
through the same hoop
to the same blank audience.
But that happens anyway
with my American Voice
The one taught in school
the one who never speaks first not even when alone and ready
As only the wrong
hard, restrictive words come,
The ones that can not say what my body is thinking
I am alive to myself and
I am putting together
Portfolios of order,
of crossed out thoughts
A few to a page,
The work
fighting,
forming my soul.
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