• Editor

my least favorite joke -- poetry by Grace Haller

Even my family jokes i'm adopted
And i laugh along with them
Although my mom sister and i share the same big, brown eyes
That is the only place where similarities lie
Where they are all golden, blonde towheads, I am a brunette
My skin is painted a deep olive hue
With dark brown fuzzy arms and thick bushy eyebrows
Although my mom gave me the genes, it is I who wears them.
I laugh but I am only third-generation American
My ancestors made the infamous trek across the Atlantic ocean
From southern Europe to New York
A cornucopia of Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese descent

I laugh because yes
We cook big dinners almost every night with olives, tomatoes, garlic, and cheese We wear gold hoops, talk with our hands, I get embarrassed when my mom uses the word “agita”

I laugh as a straighten and blow out my frizzy hair suppressing the gritty screams of my people, my culture
As they were called “enemy aliens”
As they were arrested, sent to internment camps, and forced to leave their homes Migrated to the “dreamland” to work in brutal conditions on mines and railroads

I am resentful
I am frustrated
I am confused
I am my people
I don’t really know what to think
So i just laugh

 

In 20 years, Grace Haller sees herself perched in a café in Greenwich Village, NY sipping an iced almond milk latte while writing poetry about the people walking the street. But until then, she enjoys reading any and every book she can find, watching the sunrises in the morning from her window in Florida where she lives, and attempting to bake recipes that are far too advanced for high-school culinary knowledge. She writes poetry to escape and cope with the stresses of everyday life. She hopes to educate, inspire, and make people a little uncomfortable through her writing.

83 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All