BIO
Cecilia Caballero is a mother, writer, and scholar based in LA. She is a PhD Candidate in the Department of the American Studies and Ethnicity at USC and she is a co-editor of The Chicana M(other)work Anthology: Porque Sin Madres No Hay Revolución (contracted with University of Arizona Press). She writes poetry, creative nonfiction, short fiction, and all things spooky. To learn more about her creative work, visit: https://www.patreon.com/CeciliaCaballero
On Sad Days
I put my hair in a bun
Wash my body with lavender
And shea butter scents
Spray a rose tincture on my face
Make a chocolate smoothie
Eat too many dried mangos
Write a poem about too much anger
(No, not this one,
Another one.)
On sad days, I
Don’t do the laundry
Don’t wash the dishes
Don’t grade my students’ papers.
But on sad days, at least, I can still see the sun
During wintertime in Los Angeles.
On sad days, I look outside and think
How we can’t grow much of a garden
Because there’s already too much plomo blooming into dirt
That was trail into the house with our chanclas.
And yet. A ladybug lands on my finger.
On sad days, I can still
Hear the viejita next door
Laugh like she’s crying and
She sounds just like my mom
(I didn’t answer her call last night
Because I knew it was more bad news.)
On sad days, I don’t even want to put a record on
Or apply my black eyeliner in a single stroke
I can’t even finish the novel that I’m reading
And maybe I won’t. (I do.)
On sad days, I want to learn
What the pain is trying to tell me
And maybe I’ll listen some time.
I Grew Up Poor, Not Working Class
It means
“No speak English”
It means
All of my mom’s lower teeth fell out
It means
Going to the local food pantry
And eating canned food from white people
It means
Going to charity dinners for “the poor”
And being served by my blonde classmate
(I think her pity on me meant that she felt good about herself.)
It means
Asking your white teachers to cover $10 field trip costs
It means
Seeing your name on the plastic Christmas tree at the mall
And somebody saw it and bought you some Payless shoes
(And you really liked those shoes.)
It means
My parents telling me that I can’t go to birthday parties
Because there is no money their gifts
And I stayed home instead
It means
My mom lighting another vela on la virgen’s altar
It means
Don’t write books about me or my familia for your career.
It means
I grew up poor, not working class
It means
Fuck you.