In ninth grade I discovered chemistry—
intrigued by sodium, the soft metals
and all those
cliquey elementos that bonded so facilito
the ones that stuck together
while I floated in a corner like helium
invisible, less noble
my constant struggle
to reach a stable state
Expected to memorize every single name
I carried la tabla periódica in my back pocket
my gringa lips loving a challenge
repeating each element’s name in Spanish,
sequenced, according to its atomic number
that social value I figured out
holds everyone’s place at the table
my tongue whispered their names to my brain
litio, sodio, potassio, rubidio
each grouped by their capacity to connect
and I, xenón wondered about my own valence
still not confident with my outer shell
I observed los panas and los pelados
compounds and molecules
holding hands at recess
swapping electrons like spit
my fourteen-year-old feet felt stuck
in plomo, estaño, germanium, silicón
when my chemistry teacher said don’t memorize
the glamorous synthetic elements
like Californium, and Einsteinium,
no son estábles he croaked
But ¡tecnecio!— I didn’t believe him.
So I searched that table for a secret code
to unlock the power to attract anything
found exotic locales, heroes, villains, and
the ability to shape-shift. To glow like tungsten,
shine like a palladium disco ball, I
Newjerseyum dreaming of Europium.
I theorized, if a man-made element
like Americium could find a seat
at that table, between plutonium and curium
and feign an octet state, then
Molybdenium! so would I.
