Margarita Cota-Cárdenas (California: 1941)
Her father, Jesús Cota, from Sonora, Mexico, and her mother, Margarita Cárdenas de Cota, from New Mexico, had been migrant workers until they established permanent residence in California, where they worked as contractors. Cota-Cárdenas spent her formative years in a bilingual, bicultural environment in the Imperial Valley, and it was this environment that provided the setting and stimulus for much of her work. Margarita Cota-Cárdenas has made a notable contribution to Chicano letters as a poet and novelist. Although she dealt with personal concerns in her early work, she later focused on feminist themes and social issues, approaching these with bittersweet humor at times, but always with sensitivity and compassion.
http://www.bookrags.com/biography/margarita-cota-cardenas-dlb/
Her father, Jesús Cota, from Sonora, Mexico, and her mother, Margarita Cárdenas de Cota, from New Mexico, had been migrant workers until they established permanent residence in California, where they worked as contractors. Cota-Cárdenas spent her formative years in a bilingual, bicultural environment in the Imperial Valley, and it was this environment that provided the setting and stimulus for much of her work. Margarita Cota-Cárdenas has made a notable contribution to Chicano letters as a poet and novelist. Although she dealt with personal concerns in her early work, she later focused on feminist themes and social issues, approaching these with bittersweet humor at times, but always with sensitivity and compassion.
http://www.bookrags.com/biography/margarita-cota-cardenas-dlb/
"Ya no chingues," recited by Edyth Cisneros.
Ya no chingues - Margarita Cota-Cárdenas
Soy Chicana macana
o gringa marrana,
la tinta pinta
o la pintura tinta
el puro retrato
o me huele el olfato,
una mera gabacha,
o cuata sin tacha
una pocha biscocha,
o una india mocha,
(me pongo lentes rosas o negros
para tomar prespectiva,
todo depende la verdad es relativa)
la vista aguada
o ciega nariguada,
parece que sí
pero mira que no,
me entiendes, Mendes,
o no me explico, Federico,
están claras las cosas,
pues no es por las moscas…
Ya, cierra la boca
y si te parece poco,
te echo un jarro de mole
en el falso pinche atole.
Soy Chicana macana
o gringa marrana,
la tinta pinta
o la pintura tinta
el puro retrato
o me huele el olfato,
una mera gabacha,
o cuata sin tacha
una pocha biscocha,
o una india mocha,
(me pongo lentes rosas o negros
para tomar prespectiva,
todo depende la verdad es relativa)
la vista aguada
o ciega nariguada,
parece que sí
pero mira que no,
me entiendes, Mendes,
o no me explico, Federico,
están claras las cosas,
pues no es por las moscas…
Ya, cierra la boca
y si te parece poco,
te echo un jarro de mole
en el falso pinche atole.