souvenir from a balikbayan box
I am not Pinoy enough but not Colonized enough. I am
a bad mango. Another bad omen. Where every part of me
is unripe and uncool. I’m still trying to unlearn nay’s
pronunciation of sal-mon, my uncomfortableness with
broken English, with internal American laughter aimed at
my beloved tita. Remember her US navy spouse, nudging
my shoulder when she says de-pot instead of dee-poh. Who,
like every Filo immigrant husband, tries to be more
humorous than kind. Be more man than brown. Perhaps he’s
uncomfortable too, with how American he wants her to be,
with how American he needs to be, in a world still wishing him,
her, Us, dead, & I’m doing my best with a miniscule will to live,
but I wake up believing I will inevitably make nothing of my life—
But I wake up, having made nothing of my life, undeniably here.
Akira Ritos (they/she) is a senior studying Creative Writing and English at the University of Illinois in Urbana Champaign. A 2023 AWP Honorable Mention and RootsWoundsWord Poetry Fellow, Akira has been previously published in Marias at Sampaguitas, Yuzu Press, the lickety-split, and elsewhere. Find them on Instagram @akirasoh, or Twitter @akirasohspice..
