Agbannawag, panagbanatabat iti daya, panagtataraok dagiti manok.


Thursday, January 12, 2006

I could believe you

If the recruited applauses could stand
Witness to our castrated

I could believe you farther
If you walked in the yard
And feel the loose earth
Dirtying your power
If you will strip too
Of immortality

But we wake up each dawn
To the cycle of our wasting
Each taking sleep is a trial
And yawning is its denouement.
You are removed from these.
You are untouched.

Promise them again, stranger
The blooming of the earth
During the anger of summer
The paved dreams
The pot stewed in riddles
The pot empty with rage.

Well, you can promise them the retrieving
Of their faces, their faces
Worth a few shiny coins.
Promise them prophecies
Of this sinful life
But in the middle of your promises,
When you feed them cotton dreams
Did you not see my grandfather turn
His bent back from you,
Have you heard
The blood red spat, downward
Pierced the ground?


Post a Comment

<< Home