To drive to the hospital
To drive to the hospital plunged in blue— tenting this cyanotic skin
Hiya: Saving Face, Anxiety, and Asian-Americans
Hiya: Saving Face, Anxiety, and Asian-Americans “Wasn’t he Filipino?” Jisoo asked as we walked in. “He might be. Southeast Asian at …
No bulwark here but
No bulwark here but barren land— filtered arctic beats the aseptic cowl—
Does the soul linger
Does the soul linger after the last heart beat? Does it uncover the lines and cords strewn on the body—
Sickle cell chokes
From the hallway I can see your eyes wide with desire
Telomere—
Telomere— the end is here— Cold leaf on a windshield— wiped— conducts the end of songs—
An ear-thirsty tick— infects the hips
An ear-thirsty tick— infects the hips The once, proudly latched— now, ails us with sick tips and blips
Logographing the Moon
Buwan Many poems of indigenous Filipino tribes contain imagery of the moon. Below is a poem (ambahan) of the Hanunoo people from Antoon Postma’s Treasure …
My hand dips in the Autumn stream—
My hand dips in the Autumn stream— cold calor— viscosity of whispers— scintillating macules over a thin slide of smooth stones
At Giardino Rossi
At Giardino Rossi before I sit to rest, a pair of little boots trip on cobble stones before me.