Wednesday, December 30, 2015

D.I.D.

“Pssst…hey,
your Mexican’s showing.”
It sounded like food in Her teeth,
or a stray hair.

She swiftly apologizes
And brings the Japanese back,
So no one can say She “slipped through the cracks”
Or even mention the words
“affirmative action”.

The Hawaiian?
She comes out proudly!
Hawaiian is exotic. Hawaiian’s sexy.
Mexican brings thoughts of politics, fences, and futile solutions
She doesn’t want to hear anymore.

Oh don’t get me wrong, She can come out sometimes;
When they need Her to translate a billboard,
Or they need a “more diverse sample”,
Then She comes out.

Otherwise, She retreats,
Goes to sleep,
Lays dormant until She can go home

To those who understand Her,
Those who are like Her.

Dancing on the boarder line,
Dissociative identity,
Call it what you want.
What do I call it?


Survival.


Elisa Shimada is a painter and poet raised in LA County. Her mother is full Native Hawaiian, and her father is half Japanese, half Mexican. She is an undergrad at USC studying Sociology and Social Science with an emphasis in Psychology. One of her passions is outreach for Latino Students with Latino Student Fellowship, or LaFe. Elisa is a Macro editor.

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Pidgin

I miss the saliva curry
we stir with mingling tongues,

the way she closes her eyes and offers
a sommelier’s pause before she
adjudicates the pidgin flavor.


Max Kapur is Seattle: a quarter Indian and in love with coffee. He is currently an undergrad at USC studying jazz piano and Korean. His work lives at illusionslopes.blogspot.com and is forthcoming in Westwind, UCLA's undergraduate journal of the arts. Max is a Macro editor.