10 February 2022
In the Name of the Joto, Mariposa, y Maricón by Andrés N Ordorica
Andrés N Ordorica delivers an electric reading of 'In the Name of the Joto, Mariposa, y Maricón' — a joyful prayer and blessing to queer Latinx identity, freedom, and culture.
In the name of the Joto, Mariposa, y Maricón I offer this prayer up in the name of the Joto, limp-wristed Mariposa, y irreverent Maricón. The ones who saw bravado like the Spanish Inquisition – a machismo that could smell testosterone death dropping off the scale, ready to kill us. I bear witness to the little boys swaying hips like Whirlpool washing machines while dreaming in sequence – leotard, red lipstick, diamanté-encrusted bustier – imagining us as our own leyendas,madre divina, anything for Selena (anything for us). My incantation of cumbias and merengues will summon memories of watching our parents dance and studying, not our fathers, but our mothers who art in heaven – longing to be held in that way, beautiful and vulnerable (spot lit and telenovela pretty). I lift my hands up blessing this Eucharist, the altar before us – divining the DJ to play one more Paulina, Thalia, Shakira canción por que under our abuela’s eyes we are safe, 'Ay, hijo. ¡Cálmate! and leave him alone. He’s just having a little fun.' As we shake our bidi bidi bom bom while watching the clock because when the clock strikes one then we’re done and back to little boys we go. So, worship with me in this sacred moment, safe in this communion – let the música y ritmo protegerte my little apostles, praise the joyful colour, luminous freedom as you repeat after me: We are Holy Faggots, santos maricones, we are happy little boys having a little fun. We are staking claim in who we really are: holy, holy, holy boys. We are beautiful, telenovela pretty – we are our own leyendas. We are mariposas unfurling from our crisálidas. We are Holy, Holy, Holy. We are whole. Amén.
Andrés N Ordorica is a queer Latinx writer based in Edinburgh. He is a recipient of the Edwin Morgan Trust’s Second Life grant. In 2021, he was shortlisted for both the Morley Prize for Unpublished Writers of Colour and Mo Siewcharran Prize. He is the author of At Least This I Know (404 Ink). Cover photo by Alexander Popov on Unsplash
In the name of the Joto, Mariposa, y Maricón I offer this prayer up in the name of the Joto, limp-wristed Mariposa, y irreverent Maricón. The ones who saw bravado like the Spanish Inquisition – a machismo that could smell testosterone death dropping off the scale, ready to kill us. I bear witness to the little boys swaying hips like Whirlpool washing machines while dreaming in sequence – leotard, red lipstick, diamanté-encrusted bustier – imagining us as our own leyendas,madre divina, anything for Selena (anything for us). My incantation of cumbias and merengues will summon memories of watching our parents dance and studying, not our fathers, but our mothers who art in heaven – longing to be held in that way, beautiful and vulnerable (spot lit and telenovela pretty). I lift my hands up blessing this Eucharist, the altar before us – divining the DJ to play one more Paulina, Thalia, Shakira canción por que under our abuela’s eyes we are safe, 'Ay, hijo. ¡Cálmate! and leave him alone. He’s just having a little fun.' As we shake our bidi bidi bom bom while watching the clock because when the clock strikes one then we’re done and back to little boys we go. So, worship with me in this sacred moment, safe in this communion – let the música y ritmo protegerte my little apostles, praise the joyful colour, luminous freedom as you repeat after me: We are Holy Faggots, santos maricones, we are happy little boys having a little fun. We are staking claim in who we really are: holy, holy, holy boys. We are beautiful, telenovela pretty – we are our own leyendas. We are mariposas unfurling from our crisálidas. We are Holy, Holy, Holy. We are whole. Amén.
Andrés N Ordorica is a queer Latinx writer based in Edinburgh. He is a recipient of the Edwin Morgan Trust’s Second Life grant. In 2021, he was shortlisted for both the Morley Prize for Unpublished Writers of Colour and Mo Siewcharran Prize. He is the author of At Least This I Know (404 Ink). Cover photo by Alexander Popov on Unsplash
