letra de the abuelita poem - paul martinez pompa
the abuelita poem lyrics
her brown skin glistens as the sun
pours through the kitchen window
like gold leche.’ after grinding
the nixtamal,? a word so beautifully ethnic
sit must not only be italicized but underlined
to let you, the reader, know you’ve encountered
something beautifully ethnic, she kneads
with the hands of centuries-old ancestor
spirits who magically yet realistically possess her
until the masa is smooth as a lowrider’s
chrome bumper. and i know she must do this
with carе because it says so on a websitе
that explains how to make homemade corn tortillas
so much labor for this peasant bread
this edible art birthed from abuelita’s
brown skin, which is still glistening
in the sun
ii apology
before she died i called my abuelita
grandma. i cannot remember
if she made corn tortillas from scratch
but, o, how she’d flip the factory fresh
el milagros (quality since 1950)
on the burner. bathe them in b-tter
& salt for her grandchildren
how she’d knead the b-ttons
on the telephone, order me food
from pizza hut. i assure you
gentle reader, this was done
with the spirit of mesoamérica
ablaze in her fingertips
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