by Rob Macasia Colgate
My mother, craving familiarity, drives
to Seafood City. She pushes the cart slowly,
scanning the shelves, casually steering past
old married couples, tired mothers with children,
college roommates collecting their weekly haul
of noodles and eggs for palabok— she is here
to listen to them talk, not eavesdropping
as much as just letting the Tagalog wash over her,
unexceptional conversations about shrimp and rice
and diabetes and home. In my neighborhood
I don’t know anyone else whose native language
is schizophasia. But I, too, want a city made
of seafood. I want to bump into my neighbors
in the elevator with no fear of my drowned tongue.
I want to invite them over for word salad, to mix
our chatter into halo-halo for dessert. When I confess
Sorry, I forgot my mouth today, wringing my clammy hands,
I want them to smile, reply, That’s totally fine, I forgot my ears.
Rob Macaisa Colgate (he/she/they) is the author of the debut poetry collection HARDLY CREATURES (Tin House, 2025). He edits for POETRY Magazine and Foglifter Journal and serves as poet-in-residence at Tangled Art + Disability; his work has received support from MacDowell, Fulbright, and the Canada Council for the Arts. Currently a postdoctoral fellow at the University of Alberta, he received an MFA in poetry and disability studies from the New Writers Project at UT Austin.