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Poetry
Sometimes, I am the leaves
Aimless and astray – “I won’t go far”
But most times, lost in the intricate streets and manmade blocks
Not knowing the way back to your bosom
I am the leaves, bloodless even with the stomping feet of men
and most often I am the leaf that...
Stargazing in the time of tokhang
You have a thing for stars
and constellations, you announce
as we hang out in front
of our favorite sari-sari store,
each of us smoking a stick
of Winston Lights in between sips
of RC Cola from a plastic pouch,
and munching on Happy Peanuts.
I like looking at the stars,...
Jazz
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...
Rage
It’s not only to crush
You under the
Soles of my
Feet
But to erase you
And your
Shadow
So that nothing
Remains
Even memories of your
Being here
It’s not only to
Have you
Gone
Piece-by-piece
That will satisfy me
I must eat you
Whole
Sinigang
This is how you make sinigang:
Take a kilo of buto-buto,
wash it under running water.
Use your fingertips
to grope each piece
for stray shards of bone,
and don’t be shy about it.
In a pot, pour enough water
so the meat just peeks
through the surface.
Put the burner on low
so...
Imbalance, A Brief History of
I.
2 a.m. is odd
for a doctor’s appointment
but the phallic paintings help
with the anxiety. “He treats famous men,”
was the receptionist excuse
for the schedule and interior.
“You’re in good hands,”
did not assure me.
The door opened,
‘is it my turn?’
Let this grimace
be the first symptom.
II.
I touched the foil
it...
