Luminary

ImageThe night is a crude piss
spread out seismically
like a fan of rivers.
I yawn as it muscles for my attention,
tearing me from the wipers and
the shindig of cars dancing skin to skin
in the midst of the rush hour in Bajada.
Yellow.
Slow down.
Red.
Brake.
There’s a pretense suspended
in the polluted air that not even the rain
or the mist of windows can dispel.
Thoughts teleport to a parallel world
where the same conundrum is distracted by
hurrying hands and skidding lips… bodies.
An impatient honk.
Green.
Go.
Must move forward.
A little more and finally,
the traffic lights
learn to love wide lanes.

(As published in SunStar Weekend Davao and in dagmay.kom.ph | December 23, 2012, Literary Journal of the Davao Writers Guild)

Stupefied over Sir Don Pagusara's comment on my seemingly poem.

Stupefied over Sir Don Pagusara’s comment on my seemingly poem.

Advertisements

Mouth a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s