The game show host announces the doors to our cultura are<\/p>\n
language and food\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 las puertas<\/p>\n
son lenguaje y comida<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
y no tengo las llaves\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 brain locked down when anyone speaks<\/p>\n
Spanish too\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 suddenly<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In Puerto Rico, I want to crack myself open<\/p>\n
an inside-out coconut, let espa\u00f1ol spill over my beloved island<\/p>\n
where I learned to eat my plantains sweet<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
San Juan, Sabana Grande are where I see my face reflected back at me<\/p>\n
in each shop, la playa, bars<\/p>\n
near-perfect replica of my mother\u2019s<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In Panam\u00e1, when she was a child, our familia called her fea\u2014<\/p>\n
ugly girl, with our afroboricua smile<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
that is the mouth I want to know, the Spanish I stretch lips to reach<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
try<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/span>my friends urge<\/p>\n <\/p>\n no s\u00e9 la palabra para try<\/em>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 but maybe<\/p>\n my mother kept the keys from me so each blade-<\/p>\n shaped word<\/p>\n could not cut through<\/p>\n <\/p>\n forged me as Latina Jeanne D\u2019Arc<\/p>\n her naked back a constellation of stab wounds<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n On Sundays when the children\u2019s bodies are dragged from the Rio<\/p>\n Grande<\/p>\n <\/p>\n they are reborn<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>yucca flowers, baptized in cool blue morning broken<\/p>\n by<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>dolor<\/p>\n <\/p>\n is to run through the fence, barbed<\/p>\n wire laced in your gut,<\/p>\n <\/p>\n no tetanus shot to back you up. As the doctor re-inoculates<\/p>\n me, decade since my last shot in the arm<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>raw with hubris, one more defense<\/p>\n <\/p>\n against<\/p>\n <\/p>\n desert borders,<\/p>\n bare feet<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>my choice<\/p>\n <\/p>\n When I ask, how do I ready this womb\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 to deliver another,<\/p>\n she says,\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 you know this means you can\u2019t go home<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Si, I reply, lo s\u00e9,<\/p>\n I know,<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>there is not enough Spanish in this poem.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n If my torso is the transfomer toppled in Coamo by la tormenta<\/p>\n que comenzo todas las tormentas, pole splinters, sundered<\/p>\n <\/p>\n lines wrapped around my neck, then my heart is the machete<\/p>\n mi hermano takes to the debris, hacks his way to power<\/p>\n <\/p>\n once more. If my mouth is the cage closed on our stolen hijos<\/p>\n e hijas from El Paso to New York, then my tongue is the machete<\/p>\n <\/p>\n struck to stone for one spark to ignite the final fire. If my feet<\/p>\n are the desert floor jagged with rock shards and sand scorch,<\/p>\n <\/p>\n then my legs are the machete that have held mi madre up since San<\/p>\n Salvador, breaks through brush, past helicopter-light hunt.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n If my arms are the closed gate between mi hermana and refuge, then<\/p>\n my hands are the machete, handle bashing down the lock.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n This is how I bear this body forward, weapon honed by the white<\/p>\n man since I was una ni\u00f1a peque\u00f1a and now they will pay<\/p>\n <\/p>\n homage to my machete heart, coraz\u00f3n de machete, your crimson<\/p>\n insurgent beats, those booted steps, you do not bleed, you burn\u2014<\/p>\n <\/p>\n your only stillness the song between, breath before the slash,<\/p>\n then the salvo, la fuerza, \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 when they broke through the front door,<\/p>\n <\/p>\n you were already gone.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The game show host announces the doors to our cultura are \/ language and food . . .<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":3034,"template":"","categories":[9,49,119],"tags":[801,6,37,802,803,804,805,806],"class_list":["post-3033","article","type-article","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-aquifer","category-literary-features","category-poetry","tag-angela-spring","tag-aquifer-the-florida-review-online","tag-hispanic-heritage-month","tag-hurricane-maria","tag-no-matter-where-i-go-i-carry-you-with-me","tag-ode-to-my-latina-machete-heart","tag-puerto-rico","tag-the-room-i-cannot-enter"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nNo Matter Where I Go, I Carry You With Me<\/h3>\n
Ode To My Latina Machete Heart<\/h3>\n