In this third spoken word
production by Calaca Press, a San Diego-based bilingual literary
press, poets Elba Rosario Sanchez and Olga Angelina Garcia Echeverria
offer listeners a good amount of the code-switching, bilingual
tongue-twisters that have become standard fare among Chicano
spoken word poets such as Taco Shop Poets and Los Delicados.
But the poems on this CD
go beyond Chicanos reclaiming their tongues from the halls of
monolingualism and into the realm of feminine metaphor. The two
women have created a cornucopia of sensual metaphors with a decidedly
feminine bent that make "When Skin Peels" a worthy
addition to any spoken word collection.
Sanchez, a writer, teacher
and cultural activist from Oakland, Calif., explores themes such
as sisterhood, family, racial tensions, and sensual pleasures
such as eating cilantro in poems like "Moon Corn,"
"Woman Blood" and the tongue-in-cheek "Lover's
Ode."
The latter is an ecstatic
declaration of love for an herb. In it Sanchez exclaims: "Ay
cilantro, faithful lover, sweet breath of spice and dew. ...
Your leaves curl, wrapping 'round my tongue."
Echeverria, a writer and
teacher from East L.A., employs a subtle sense of humor in poems
such as "Lengualistic Algo: Speaking in Tongues" "I've
already eaten the thin white skeletons of foreign words,"
she says to language essentialists, calling herself "your
worst linguistic nightmare, hecha realidad."
"Mama Azucar"
explores the world of "la desgraciada del apartamento 13,"
the neighborhood loose woman whom men call "one big revolving
door."
What's telling about Mama
Azucar is that she's surprisingly free and happy, with her music
blasting and no man around to tell her what to do. In that sense,
she's got a bit in common with the two poets on "When Skin
Peels," who rant to their heart's content about identity,
love, loss, subjugation and liberty without a glance over their
shoulders to see what the boys will have to say about it.
