In celebration of Cinco de Mayo and in solidarity for las mujeres unidas in Arizona, a poem by Sandra Cisneros.
Ole Maids
My cousins and I,
we don't marry.
We're too old
by Mexican standards.
And the relatives
have long suspected
we can't anymore
in white.
My cousins and I,
we're all old
maids at thirty.
Who won't dress children,
and never saints--
though we undress them.
The aunts,
they've given up on us.
No longer nudge--You're next.
Instead--
What happened in your childhood?
What left you all mean teens?
Who hurt you, honey?
But we've studied
marriages too long--
Aunt Ariadne,
Tia Vashti,
Comadre Penelope,
querida Malintzin,
Senora Pumpkin Shell--
lessons that served us well.
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