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Las Tejanas: 300 Years of History
by Teresa Palomo Acosta, Ruthe Winegarten   4.50 avg rating — 4 ratings
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published
2003
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2 editions
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My rating:
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Nile and Other Poems
5.00 avg rating — 2 ratings
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published
2007
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My rating:
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In the Season of Change
 4.00 avg rating — 2 ratings
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My rating:
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Passing Time
5.00 avg rating — 1 rating
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published
1984
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My rating:
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“Chicana intifada
Rocks are our weapons of choice,
indeed the only ones that we have stockpiled.
We never worry about running out of them.
After all, our unpaved streets are filled with rocks.
We have wiped the dirt off them so that they may sail
with a smooth hardness when we fling them into the air.
We shall name each one of our rocks for the family members
we have lost each year of the hundreds of years we’ve lived in
these parts—as indios, as mestizos, as “Hi-panics.”
For starters, we plan to break a few windows
of the jefe’s casota nueva.
I myself will be delighted to land one in each pane:
center, left, right, top, bottom—the exact location
doesn’t much matter.
Why should his fancy house remain intact
while we cannot count on running water?
No one will suspect
that an abuela is la capitana of the Chicana intifada,
with her disguise of hat and gloves,
of shiny earrings and sheer “nude” pantyhose;
with her polite yes, ma’aming.
“We’ll launch the first volleys at 6 p.m.,”
she whispers to us. Smiling wryly, she adds,
“Inside the house at a reception to which
I’ve been properly invited you’ll see me
lower my right gloved hand to the marble table.”
Copyright (C) Teresa Palomo Acosta, 2007. All rights reserved.”
― Teresa Palomo Acosta
Rocks are our weapons of choice,
indeed the only ones that we have stockpiled.
We never worry about running out of them.
After all, our unpaved streets are filled with rocks.
We have wiped the dirt off them so that they may sail
with a smooth hardness when we fling them into the air.
We shall name each one of our rocks for the family members
we have lost each year of the hundreds of years we’ve lived in
these parts—as indios, as mestizos, as “Hi-panics.”
For starters, we plan to break a few windows
of the jefe’s casota nueva.
I myself will be delighted to land one in each pane:
center, left, right, top, bottom—the exact location
doesn’t much matter.
Why should his fancy house remain intact
while we cannot count on running water?
No one will suspect
that an abuela is la capitana of the Chicana intifada,
with her disguise of hat and gloves,
of shiny earrings and sheer “nude” pantyhose;
with her polite yes, ma’aming.
“We’ll launch the first volleys at 6 p.m.,”
she whispers to us. Smiling wryly, she adds,
“Inside the house at a reception to which
I’ve been properly invited you’ll see me
lower my right gloved hand to the marble table.”
Copyright (C) Teresa Palomo Acosta, 2007. All rights reserved.”
― Teresa Palomo Acosta
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