Mesina is a third year student studying English in the Area Program for Poetry Writing and Anthropology. They are passionate about decolonizing their way of thinking by learning about their pre-colonial heritage and exploring self-expression through poetry. In their free time, they like playing with their cats Stevie and Finneas, curating funky outfits, and learning new tricks on their skateboard.
When I was a kid, Saturday mornings meant a breakfast of fried rice, a runny egg, and SPAM—a staple in our pantry growing up.
You traded our Mother's nest for the rich spit
that watered your seeds, only to sprout Sam's lies:
We need YOU to believe in meritocracy
Green wraps its arms around four walls
squeezing them tight only allowing
wind’s small squeals to seep through the crevices
During midsummer's stickiest days, Tatay would tend his garden until the sun started to fade.
now press your tongue against your teeth
say rot! say truth! say life’s a brutal game
It is not only to follow or imitate
the tradition of our elders of yesterday
like those that came before us
reach the pure ether
where gods live
where I live
catching every fruitful tear
as if the answer to me