Orange que te quiero verde, that's Poeticah

The Visual Poetry of Poeticah explores the boundaries between poetry, languages, and traditional with computer visual art.

This is a poem from my chapbook Axtlanadu.

<<Axtlanadu>> Pocho's World Some folks find it hard to savor me. I am: Frijoles a la charra with too much, Or not enough cilantro; Salsa that burns, Or has no zip; A margarita that's wimpy, Or kicks too hard. When I was a kid some called me a gringo. Then the Tejano sun cooked This raw half-tortilla, half-bread Into a golden tortbread. My English is sometimes partly roasted. More often my Spanish is hardly grilled and too bland. I'm caught between a well-cooked fajita and rare steak. I like them both but know how it feels In the world between them. I saw Selena on the Christina show. Selena said, "Diez y cuatro," for fourteen. Christina answered, "No. Catorce." Selena's blush radiated from the TV, Entered my blood, shot to my brain, And triggered a memory from my college days: I was on a bus with a Mexican girl; Making my move, I talked to her In my barely grilled Spanish. She laughed at this Chicano-Anglo Calling him A Pocho. <<Axtlanadu>>