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>> Oh, this is an honor and I feel privileged
to be part of welcoming Gloria Anzaldua.

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The poem that I'm going to read is a
response to Gloria Anzaldua's work.

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And when I read Borderlands, La Frontera,
it helped me put together some things

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because for me -- My father
is from Aguascalientes,

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Mexico and my mother was a German
war bride, Maria Kramer,

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and I've got a little mixed up sometimes
and I ended up living on a lot of edges.

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So what I'd like to do is to read a poem
that helped me put some things together

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and after reading Gloria's text, I
began to see that I too am a mestiza.

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So this poem is the response to Gloria's
work and a grateful acknowledgment

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of the influence she's had on my writing.

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The poem is called Swimming Borders.

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Swimming Borders, a response
to Gloria Anzaldua's poem

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To Live in the Borderlands Means You.

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You are the crosser swimming borders,
el río and, above you, the bridge.

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Your hair, bright red.

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Whatever you dream as you swim is holy.

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A shred of your heart which you offered
many times to la migra, which you gave over

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and over to a white world backstroke.

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Pero when you live in a world of borders, on
the edge, on the river, you learned how to sink

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into dark holes, spend time in trenches,

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slide your brown belly alongside the
dark thing you thought was your enemy.

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Something slithering on the underside
of your soul, yourself, loose,

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the dead skin you've tried to crawl out of.

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Keep swimming, you tell yourself
and you are a woman swimming alone.

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Fish hands, [? cold ?] mujer, whose only desire is

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to live the dark shore edge
of the other side shining.

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River, your mouth taking the shape of a rose.

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Sangre, beating dark in your [? cunt ?].

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La perdida, you are the dark
one, wounded bird ya con alas.

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You are raising tender wings.

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First flight out of the swollen water.

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Thank you.

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And now if you'll help me give a
very warm welcome to Gloria Anzaldua.