ORPHAN OF AZTLAN

I am fast forwarding past the reruns ése and riding the big wave called future making myself fabulous as I disentangle from the wreck of this cultural collision I am a Queer Chicano A native in no land An orphan of Atzlan The Pocho son of farm worker parents The Mexicans only want me when I talk about Mexico But what about Mexican Queers in L.A.? The Queers only want me, when they need to add color add spice like salsa picante, on the side With one foot on each side of the border, not the border between México and the United States, but the border between Chicano and Queer, I search for a home in both yet neither one believes that I exist		Blur the line take the journey play with the unknown deal with the whole enchilada We will continue to create these espectáculos tan sabrosos that we can call our Queer Latino selves and we will make them al estilo los like only we know how to make them Because we are at the edge at the rim at the border of a new world and there is no place to run or hide So tonight I walk down to the corner I step over this burned out lot and say I come in the name of peace and justice and I ask What are you afraid of? Are you a friend or a phobe? Luís Alfaro