when i tell a white boy i am Mexican, he asks me if i think Taco Bell tastes good

by | Dec 9, 2025 | Issue Forty-Eight, Poetry

i tell him, no, 
but yes,
in the way that a mcdonald’s cheeseburger with pickles and mustard
tastes good at 2:37 in the morning when you are broke and drunk and hungry
dragging your feet all the way home

and the way that you crave kraft mac n cheese from a carboard box sometimes
because you remember spongebob face-shaped noodles
with slices of salchicha
taste of cielos
cuando éramos chiquitos.

i say,
i’ve eaten taco bell twice,
in my life,
even after I knew the meat came from plastic bags
and leftover scraps,

not like mexican street fests
where they cut the carne in your face
and serve it to you there, on a paper plate.

if in my life, i could taste a taco fresh
and homemade,
how could I say that the fake one
tastes
okay?

and i say, and you’ve probably heard this too much,
to far ends of culinary culture
the “American” way,
but no,
no one eats a ground beef taco with tomato chunks, sour cream, and cheddar cheese
in a hard shell
for its authenticity,
when you know we take our carnes seriously,
so can I ask, why the fuck are you asking me?

and while we are already on the subject of stolen identity,
we all know cinco de mayo is a fake festivity,
but we let your gringolandia’s ignorance slide
because we know it is just an excuse to
get drunk, party,
escape our realities,
and in that, I guess,
es algo que we might see similarly.

and lastly-
a paloma is made out of esquir, tequila, and limón.
that means lime, not lemon.
top with salt or tajin for extra spice.

not every food is spicy.

its funny
that your country
(not my country),
wants to claim everyone and everything
except their shitty fast food,
calling it
something internationally
even though,
estados unidos,
the “put poisonous junk in your body” thing
was actually invented by you,
foo.

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