Ménage à trois

My features, they betray me
with their inside joke,
my identity comprised of an awkward three-some.

But when I’m drunk, so I’ve heard,
the southern drawl spills
out like molasses.

I’ve lived my life as a chameleon,
camouflaging into the background,
hidden in someone else’s wild.

I shake my hips to any salsa beat
and can’t speak without using my hands
my latin refuses to be evicted.

Your heritage houses your soul.

But here in the valley, I’ve drawn
curtains around my heart,
making sure to keep its volume down.
Blending in like the furniture.

 Still not quite enough, but almost tolerable
and yet my walk, that Yankee doodle gait,
gives my secret away and  I cannot deny
my body the satisfaction

of its original sin.

 

“saturday selfie”by GR167 is licensed under CC PDM 1.0

Written by 

TAK Erzinger is an American/Swiss poet and artist with a Colombian background. Her poetry has been featured by journals at the Latino Book Review, Indiana University, Cornell University, McMaster University, the University of Baltimore and more. Erzinger’s poetry collection “At the Foot of the Mountain,” (Floricanto Press 2021), won the University of Indianapolis, Etchings Press Whirling Prize for 2021 for best nature poetry book and is a two-time finalist. Her latest poetry collection “Tourist” (Sea Crow Press 2023) is also a two-time finalist at the International Book Awards and the Eyelands Book Awards. Erzinger was a writer-in-residence at the Art Centre Padula, Residency Programme summer 2023. As well as an artist-in-residence at Brisons Veor fall 2024. Most recently her first children’s picture book, At the Queen of the Mountain won a 2025 Golden Wizard Book Prize. She lives on the foothills of the Alps in Switzerland with her husband and two cats.

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3 thoughts on “Ménage à trois

  1. Thank you Melanie and Kim for your comments! It is such a blessing to hear from you and know that my poem has spoken to you. I hope. The New Year started well for you both. May peace be with you. Be well. Kind regards, TAK Erzinger

  2. But when I’m drunk, so I’ve heard,
    the southern drawl spills
    out like molasses.

    I. Love. This!

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