I feel like I have the right
to cuss like a sailor
because I am the descendant of one.
I can remember the stories my mother used to tell,
of the man who made perfect pancakes.
It was all I knew about him besides the other story
about their first kiss in the rain,
then she married him.
And when I braid my hair
I am Pocahontas,
because if my great-grandfather whom I've never known.
I wish I'd been there
when my family lived in Morocco or Puerto Rico,
I wish I was foreign.
Even though,
it takes forever for my mother's files to go through anything
because she is not U.S. born.
I think I just want to know what box to check
in the race section of applications.