Carpool
The streets were eternal back thenback when back seat was a canopy of armsstretched out like the solsticethe thump of tire on chewed cementjolting the deviance from feeble bodiesMomma was no pilot, bu... Read more
Culture
The first time I saw Apo Tudo, The Ilocano rain deity, I swear, he sent mist to that mountain Outside of Baguio Kissing the Filipino soil with sweet promises and tearful memories My grandmother share... Read more
The Mosaic of Brokenness
(today) I cried, driving to the grocery store, for no reason, other than, I remembered (so when does it end?) When I am accomplished and successful, is that when I feel whole again? I desper... Read more
The New KW
This poem is meant to be read out loud, with friends, while in transit. Persevere through construction, detours won’t trouble you Let these stories mark our new KW. A KW that connects us with... Read more
Two Movements
I From the terrace before six I see a train crossing, Three cars long—“That’s it?” Passing in no time at all. I linger for the evening commuter; longer, heavier, humi... Read more
Quezon City, October 1, 1975
Everyone is watching two men bleed in the square. i. They’re leaning on each other, heads on the other’s shoulders. The referee pushes them apart and the mouthpieces fly into the air. Granddad, th... Read more