I’m teetering
between cultures
and writing from a seesaw.

Legs bent
hands gripped bar
feet on ground.

The earth that
pushes back
is a muddy mix of
Jewish Father–
the middle class in the 1960s father,
Immigrant Mother–
the strong mexican woman from a dirt floor childhood mother,
Other-Fathered Half-Sisters–
the uprooted and planted in America when they were old enough
to know the difference half-sisters,
the jewish mexican oddities in different shades of brown,
in a spanish-speaking home in the “Hispanic part of town,”
but with a claim to whiteness that can lift us from the ground…

Legs bent
hands gripped bar
whoosh of air.

The wind that
swirls round
is a whispered web of
artificial categories,
identity laboratories,
self-hatred depositories.
From invisible clasps comes
the neverending mantra–
I go by Alex, not Alejandra.


2 thoughts on “Introductions

  1. Alex … in honor of your great grandpa Alex Steinberg, probably short for Alexander, as in “The Great”. Seesaws can be hard to hold onto, but they’re fun too šŸ™‚


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