You don’t listen to jazz because
It is neither pedestrian nor broccoli.
“Who’s Mahatma Gandhi?” asks a man
Who had somehow gone through twenty
Years without learning a thing or
Two in history but swears that
A wild boar’s penis does wonders
To an underachieving male such as
He. Incredibly smart about rap culture,
It should not be too much
Of me to ask, I think,
For a gentler spin, something parochial,
And not based upon a horoscope
Page. We are stir-fried characters
With illustrative details enough to choke
On our patron saint’s banquet. If
You are ever going to love
Me, I might even see your good
Side and finally see in you
Something they say there is not.
Do you think, just possibly, we
Could use a few more moments
Of this light? I see you
Nod indulgently. Tomorrow, it might be
That you’ll find yourself listening to
Jazz with me and that’ll be
A different story.
Diana B. Noche
Diana B. Noche, 77, worked as an Accountant for nearly 35 years. She studied Professional Photography at the New York Institute of
Photography in 1996. She submitted short stories and poems to the Philippines Free Press, What’s Up, Health News, Panorama , Daily Tribune, and Liwayway Magazine (Tagalog). She currently writes articles for the Motoring Section and photo essays for Lifestyle (Manila Standard). Her short story, “ That Male Thing,” appeared in the Philippines Graphic Reader maiden issue (February 2022).
