Slip House
Marcela Maldonado
About the Author:
Marcela Maldonado was born in Pasaje, El Oro, Ecuador where she lived until she was 10 and where she began writing stories and drawing. She grew up in New York City where she wrote and staged a play, “Dead End Street”, through The Bayard Rustin High School for the Humanities and The Women’s Theatre Project’s in-school program. She built a career in land stewardship and equitable conservation while exploring her creative interests. Today she is reconnecting with writing and using it to explore her experience with immigration, family, love, and belonging as well as the city she calls home (NYC
Slip House on 5th
Sitting here at Slip house
behind this rusted fence
made from scraps and swirling iron rods
thinking about the unfinished houses in Pasaje
with varillas exposed
Slip house has a little bench
out front, next to the Japanese maple
with its young red leaves and
a climbing vine winding itself up
the twisted varilla door
En el Pasaje de mis niñes
all the houses had front gardens too
until el desarrollo llegó
y el cemento borro el espacio
para las amacas, las plantas,
las flores, y las raíces
in old pots, and jarros, y tubs
I miss walking on the cool soft ground
climbing crotos tall as trees
Pretending they were the very buildings
I now take conference calls in
Algun dia el development
will sell them back the front gardens and
condemn my aunts and cousins
for the cement and will insist they use
the old pots, and jarros, y tubs
rebranded, and stylized
I will watch it all happen
sitting here on this bench
desconectada de donde vine
con heridas habiertas
siendo desarroyo en carne viva
this city in my veins
sitting here in Slip house’s front garden
con an iron rod fence