to please you and your old and rich American
'lover', i decided to take you to
Tabancura Cafe where
indigenous paintings are on
exhibit on that day
first we had coffee and some
sticky rice delicacies and ripe mangoes
then the American (was his named Ted
for Teddy Bear?) begins to view
indigenous art, from softdrink tansans
to plastic straw and
drift wood and used
tissue, and from which he
said ' Honey, we have to go now,
we will be late for the show in Dakak.
This is garbage! '
Then both of you are gone
and i am left out
alone again in the art works of
my countrymen.
I sleep early that time
after drinking beer
and i dream about myself swimming
in the river of garbage with Manny Villar.
Weird.
i wake up profusely sweating
goes to the ref got a glass of cold water
and drink
take a deep breath and
walk my way to bed again
i pray that i may not dream again
about garbage
that i may not even remember about both of you
(garbage too
you, whose dream is it to go away from the poverty
of this country)
that i may not remember this political mess
of lies and deception
and more corruption to come
after this year's election.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem