Did you know your grandparents?
No?
Then you have no history.
Your mother from Argentina?
Tu padre de Peru?
He doesn’t look like your father.
Is he your real father?
You look white.
Why don’t you just say you’re from here?
Can’t cook,
slightly anorexic.
Middle-class.
Catholic school—yes, okay—we’ll accept that.
Pero Buddhist—spiritual—Unitarian Universalist? ¿Qué es eso?
You only read books in English.
Never read Don Quixote/
tried to read Don Quixote.
Didn’t you leave behind the entire Spanish language?
(but sometimes it’s home)
Didn’t you leave home?
More than once?
The daughter
should stay home.
No husband, no hijos?
Too queer.
(not queer enough,
but that’s another poem)
Middle-aged,
sola sola sola.
Familia es todo.
What is home?
What is home?
you listen to Kingdom of the Sun: The Inca Heritage
(is this your culture
or the need to prove your culture)
you read Nelly’s story in the liner notes—
the nuns at school
teach her
singing
is a sin
a musicologist
records Nelly’s father, Don Luis Camasco, with his band of musicians/ guitar makers—
Conjunto Mensajeros Dos de Mayo
they lift their songs
late into the night
Nelly listens
finally, one night, her father says—you’re my daughter
finally, the musicologist says—the nuns didn’t know
all there is
so she sings
the musicologist takes notes—
“a voice harsh from disuse but full of spirit”
you listen
you are not her
she is not you
every voice
is a story
her voice
is a story
hers
alone.
