America, i-c-u
   ©1992 by Phil Duran

   America, i-c-u 
   but you don't see 
   the real me
   behind those labels of 
   homogenizing mentality
   designed to hide my true identity

   i-c-y u call me Hispanic:
   to deny my indio existence 
           on native soil
   do you call yourself British
           on foreign soil?

   i saw the "spanish foods" section
   in the supermarket
   the other day, but where was 
   the "English foods" section?

   i introduced myself to you
   by pronouncing my name
   then you left me standing there
   while you looked for an interpreter
   thinking i spoke a foreign language

   those tortillas y frijoles with chile picoso 
   (ay, i, hay! like hot ashes on the tongue)
   are not Hispanic
   they are indio, they're chicano

   i called the information operator
   asking for Maldonado
   (I had to spell it)
   she said "there's only one and 
           his name is JESus"
   I said I already knew that One 
           I wanted JeSUS
   but she couldn't give me his number anyway

   no longer naive
   i-c-y i can't trust hot rhetoric
   and icy attitudes
   es puro gas caliente
   de corazón frío e ignorante

   if you try to change CHICANO poetry
   into "Hispanic" poetry
   there will be a cosmic war
   and a Mayan calendar will remember you
   for the next 300,000 years

   America, icy you since you don't see me 
   behind cold labels that hide my identity...
   don't take away the indio in me!

           June 25, 1992