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Philippines Graphic Reader

Dial “D” for Desire

I was yet to meet a man like him. He sauntered into the room with a gait that announced, Look! I’m here! And by the time the heavy pinewood door swung shut behind him, all my trainees—of which he was to be one—had...

MEMOS

To the Woodcarvers of Betis 1 if i could feel the cold hardness of wood, would i also know your will, woodcarver, your will to hew a soul out of a lifeless slab? what skill does it take to craft complete an art, a promised beauty, defined and fulfilled? if i find the wisdom, then, i...

Indelible Stains

It is Saturday morning. I am down on all fours on the bathroom floor.  My hair is kept up by a plastic clamp; my face, bare. Keeping everything pristine is my compulsion.  Today is no exception. Using a rag soaked in Zonrox, I...

Binondo Church

For its brick walls were blotched with rednessLike a child with a high grown fever,The tolling of its bells, bounty and scared. The plaza on its façade, a space of endearmentFor the taho vendors in selling their drinkable breakfastAnd the jeepneys whose wheels turning...

Ninay and the Spirits

The summer Ninay turned ten, her elder sister told her that she should learn to help around the house. Housework should be done the perfect way, her sister said. “No mess. No noise. No clutter.” But Ninay accidentally dropped plates, cups or spoons...

Unbreakable

Exact is not the word; the hurting is felt in many places. - Joel Toledo Mending is necessary as these respites from fragility will no longer do. Mind the volume dial as it floods you with constants and firmitude. Long before right from wrong: language stolen...

Random Pickings

Dale As I Explain to Him This Weird Thing Called Love

Is love visceral? Is love political?We elect emotions as tyrantsDictating the rest of our historyWhile I hold your hands gentlyWalking down the parliamentOf desire...

Time in a Shell

They say that when you put your ear next to a seashell, you can hear the ocean. That you can hear the waves crashing...

The Birth of Zaroasther

They connived with the dark shadows, the family who lived in a house full of glass windows and graven saints. Toraja invited me to...

The Heart Wants What It Wants

Such a slim volume but how sharply it connects, the Reader muses, feeling as though a door were creaking open as Annie Ernaux’s “Simple...