I initially misunderstood the assignment and input a detailed altar description into the journal. Instead of copying and pasting the same content, I decided to share a poem I wrote that embodies my lived experience as a first generation Salvy in West Oakland.
born in 96, raised on 26th
raised on spanglish and beans and cheese sandwiches
raised on lack of confidence inside my languages
attention deficit but mastered every text i read
raised on lack of breath cuz the air is tense with death
raised on love and hate and tension and some bad blood
raised on corn and carbs and coffee in some clay mugs
hot breath pickled cabbage on my taste buds
anti social on the campus with a mean mug
i never had enough, even when i’ve had too much
i’ve got some phoenix in my dna
there's no pain from the flames that i touch
used to be complacent now the hungers getting tough
i’ve got a headache on the bus, the 88 headed west
off at market n’ 26th , at the market coppin’ chips
catch me makin’ moves like a monarch flying south
i’ve got some migrant in my blood so how they gon’ keep me out?
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