Joanna Acevedo

MEXICAN AF

I’m busy making problems where there are none.

Is there such a thing, I wonder, as an encouraging

rejection? Bandanna wrapped around my forehead,

I’m culturally appropriating myself. I speak no

 

Spanish. A modern chulita. Hefting babies on
her hip, the woman on the L train platform asks me,

¿Hablas espanol? The fear in her eyes is palpable. I say

no, feeling guilty as sin. Somewhere along the way

 

I’ve lost my culture. Still, with gold hoop earrings

on Wycko Avenue, I feel at home. Making a name

for myself among the pendejos, the stoop corner

boys, pool balls cracking. I’m a bad Mexican, a good

 

daughter, a lost sheep looking for my ock. Tell me,
what is it about late nights and slurry Spanish on
the neighbor’s radio? A siren song to another country,

culture, that is my own but is not my own. Send me home.

Joanna Acevedo is a writer, educator, and editor from New York City. She was nominated for a Pushcart in 2021 for her poem “self portrait if the girl is on fire” and is the author of three books and chapbooks, including Unsaid Things (Flexible Press, 2021) and List of Demands (Bottlecap Press, 2022)... Full Profile