S9 Poem by RIC BASTASA

i like to tell you but you know i cannot.
and so i resort to scribbling some notes in my private part
(a journal, i mean it)

dear x,
please be mine tonight
do not mind the rumors of the day
love you.

i am algebraic.
an equation unsolved. dear x.

please be there tonight
i have money, please do not mind the morals of the morons of our days.
i love you.

this is y.
y still is a why, and there is no answer
to my own stupidity. dear x.

dear x. please do not mind me.
you are the lesson of the day. you are the morals of the morons for the day.

dear x.
i am nearing the conclusion that i must be crazy. dear x.

inside the office i work all day and always thinking about x.
dear x. dear x. it whispers a solution. this is y and and this is x.

i snap a mosquito and it is dead between my palms.
dear x.

why do i love you dear x? and why can't i tell you about it dear x?
why can't i even utter your name?

i must be a coward dear x.

on the other hand, i must be strong too.
I got an A for self-discipline.
a B+ for compromises
and a C for cooperation.

my life is not an F.
dear x. i am happy now. i forget about you. and i shall lie about you.

got an A too for all the denials.
graduated summa cum laude for living my life through
despite a very lousy dissertation that my professors consider as perfect.

i wonder
why are their standards wrong?

dear x.
this is y. forever we shall remain unknown to ourselves.

that is the reason why.
we are better this way. ghosts forever
roaming the streets of
horror.