My Wife Poem by RIC BASTASA

as she was preparing for her usual market day
on some limited pesos to buy the usual eggs and coffee,
she hints and strikes me with:

what if we apply for a visa in the USA?
it won't harm to try our luck in the Great Apple,

i was resting in bed due to a bad cough
this hot weather and sudden rain
this dusty country with bad roads

oh, if you like it, why not try yourself?
if you get an approved visa, why not be like the rest of
our professionals
on a decent job as caregiver

not that really distant to being a domestic helper in Hongkong
and the Emirates

well, i stated with finality,
i can always afford to stay here
work, inch my way slowly to the higher ladder of the
corrupt bureaucracy without really
having my hands dirty on some
issues of law and morality

i may, compromise, as your beneficiary
for your compulsory dollar remittance
and people around us here
your mother and brothers
may name me Lazybone

but honestly honey, we differ on this kind of
point-of-view

this is Paradise here, why leave?
this is the only country we have, why leave?

she does not want any further discussion
she leaves with her small rattan basket to the market

i sometimes reflect on this,
what if i am wrong? what if i am such a narrow minded patriotic
out of touch lazy bone?

i am staying put. I love it here.
I may even invoke God. He wants me to be here.

Fate. Yes, Fat Fate.