the arsonist

I threw a lit cigarette
to a Bible printing press
and now I am a notorious arsonist.
Look at the flame chewing
on the innocent lives of unbound
books. Look at the flame
growing taller and quickly
sustaining nutrition.
Look at the flame giving birth
to bouncing fat smoke
and everyone who inhale
it will be proficient
in the Word of God.

My mother wrote a how-to article on being a good son. She posted it on my bedroom wall and I see it everyday. But it’s in French and je ne comprends pas le francais. I’m Spanish and quiero beber una cerveza.

The transition of seasons, notes on

i.

The transition of seasons from dry to wet
is advertised in orange skies.

The transition of seasons is a bird hatching in a nest
in the most unusual places — for instance, under your bed.

The transition of seasons, when advertised,
pays back with fluid sunshines and the scent of wet asphalt

The transition of seasons, when hatched under your bed,
is hatched weeks immature but never on time.

 

ii.

Use the small dying kitten in a sentence its small head bending

up to its back trying to turn away from us from

being humiliated by the time and place of its death.

As much as we cannot write its poor little life

we cannot write the weather.

The abrupt mood swings of the clouds from

the kitty’s last summer to gray

as if suddenly mourning the kitty’s death

their tears fall blindly on the pavement

gathering in the gutters and marching to the sewer

to the river where the tiny corpse will be tossed.

Eventually, they meet in Pasig River, the River Styx of cats.

With its head still bent to its back

kitty is welcomed in the underworld by a parade of

neon-colored yarnballs,

a marching band of tiny mice,

a soft magic blanket,

a garden of catnip,

a festival of fried fish,

a rain of Whiskas,

twelve bottles of milk,

and a slice of cheddar cheese.

Once the welcome feast is done, they are brought back

to the world as angels fluttering from daisies to roses

to your windowsill while you sleep.

 

iii.

in the overrated abundance of May sun

i found you attached to the sand

your face shining in the noontime

and i realized how beautiful you are.

from over your face i gave you shade

but you seemed to appreciate more the stunning

sunshine and moved six paces to the left

so i took off my fluffy cotton cloud clothes

and as a naked wind i pursued you.

ah, thank god for the breeze! you muttered as

you fanned your face in invitation

and commenced sun bathing as i scuffled and tussled and

wrestled to blow off your two-piece bikini.

 

iv.

Summer is the sky’s way of telling you how much
it would like to undress you.

The rainy season is the sky’s way of telling you how much
it would like to make you wet.

The transition of seasons from summer to rain is the sky’s way of
telling you how much it would like to undress you only to suddenly make you wet.

 

v.

For now, I am tired of writing about the weather. I need to travel or work or perhaps, go back to school.

I go to court

A priest sued me libel for calling him baboon on Facebook. The meek lady judge of the Regional Trial Court ruled that I was guilty of defamation and libel proclaiming that there is no truth to my claim that Fr. Madlangtuta is a baboon.

During the investigation they had Fr. Madlangtuta examined in a laboratory. Doctors and experts from different parts of the world carefully investigated and examined if Fr. Madlangtuta is indeed a human being and not a baboon. Three months later, the results came out saying that he is one hundred percent human being and zero percent baboon. Unfortunately, baboons weren’t able to express their opinion.

After being jailed for six years, I went back to the Regional Trial Court to ask the lady judge if calling a baboon “priest” is libelous. She said no. Then I decided to repent my sins so I went to the zoo and said to the baboon, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

The art of scanning

I played with my scanner and some old sketches.

On summer plans and Pokemon training

I have been idle this summer (but if you will consider my travels and battles in the Hoenn Region in Pokemon Emerald, I have been doing well as a Pokemon trainer) which is not very unusual. My days are always spent inside the comfort of my lovely untidy bedroom where I fix myself before my PC and surf the sordid but fun and fascinating waves of the internet (by the way, I miss real surfing. I’ve only surfed once last summer in the warm refreshing La Union and I would like to do it again some time) and when there’s nothing interesting to look at or to laugh at, I play Pokemon.

On summer plans: before summer vacation, I actually planned on getting an OJT or an apprenticeship but after being rejected from my first ever job application for an apprenticeship in some design studio under a small white building planted in the labyrinth that is Quezon City, I finally preferred being idle this summer. Or at least, in the most parts of this summer. No, I am not giving up but yes I do hate being rejected but I would just like to inform everyone that I am lazy. And to add to that, my laziness harshly rises in the stunning summer heat. My mother, on the other hand, loathes — no, sinusumpa n’ya sa mga bathala, she despises my irrevocable laziness so she tells me with great force to get a job. And who knows, I might actually e-mail an architectural firm or studio after posting this, begging to be their summer apprentice for the eternal peace of my mother’s mind regarding my summer status.

I also plan to go to Baguio this May but besides that, nothing is sure to become of my summer — except also of course, becoming a great Pokemon trainer.

I always regard summer as something that is extra special, a bonus for my sleepless hardworking nights. But my parents are busy with business, my sister is busy with her table tennis training while I rot here in my bedroom having lots of fun playing Pokemon and writing irrelevant nothings. (It’s true. Sarcasm aside, it’s fun being lazy and bored sometimes).

On a different note, I don’t like being interviewed. Specially job interviews. I automatically get in my utmost uncomfortable state and I answer things that will take me nowhere in the job. So I guess, next time I sit in a job interview, I will tell the interviewer that everything they need to know about me that’s not in my resume is on my Facebook wall.