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Poetry
When I think of leaving, I remember my daughter the night we lost the elections
I’m tired of this shithouse of a country:its coddling with thieves and tyrants, its short memory, its naïveté, its misplacedforgiveness.
I got one hand on Google mousing over “immigrant jobs in X country” andanother grasping my daughter’s words, like a beaded rosary that night...
Yule Season
My holiday wishesAs I gazeInto the wideOpen oceanIn the islandOf my birth
Save that giftAnd reserve itFor the hungryand the homelessIn the South.
Save the soundOf Christmas carolsAnd toll the bellsFor fishersWho lost their boatsAnd sources of livelihoodFrom the angry seas.
Save the merrymakingAnd transform it...
War Has a Special Currency
Among the rubble was a bloodied coinWhich they found in the hand of a dead boy,Held in the hand that should have clasped a toy.At his age there were games for him to joinBut he was outside, right in the lineOf fire, in...
Prayer
Last night, she mumbled a brief prayer.Brief because her God hates verboseprayer. She prayed for abundance.This morning, she woke upto the early gossip of sparrowsperching on the neighbor’s clothesline.Outside, the coral vines are pregnantwith umbels and umbels of salmon-pinkflowers. The tambis fruits now...
THE CALLING OF ST. MATTHEW
In Harmony with Caravaggio
Five men sit around a tablewhile two stand at the extreme right.How strange, those seated havefoppish hats, embroidered and brocadedshirts, tight leggings, swords sheathed.The other two stood wearing robesof centuries past, both pointing tothe five with their right hands,One hesitant,...
MAOMAG PRINCE*
(Philippine Tarsier Foundation in Loboc, Bohol)
Charles, next in lineTo the throne of England,Held him:
Palm-sized proto-simian,Tiny tea saucers for eyes,Mouth with needle teeth,
More ancient than anyEmperor or King.
Perhaps, becauseThey both have bigEars, the maomag
Was named after itsIllustrious visitor.
Or maybe becauseBoth proto-simianAnd English royal
Are rare;...
