Saturday, November 21, 2009

November 22, 2009

Enter at Your Own Risk!

In the Philippines, the Christmas season starts in October, a mixture of witches, goblins, and Santa Claus. In Catholic churches lay porcelainbaby Jesus' whiter than anyone in Nazareth, with blues eyes, wearing a ridiculously huge crown that Jesus never wore. Mary and Joseph weren't exactly the richest people in Nazareth and when 13 year old Mary bore a child that didn't come from 40 year old Joseph, they were not invited to "A" list parties. My wife and I want a baby but the chances of our having one thanks to the tubal ligation I got to make sure my wife at the the time ( a female Jeckyl and Hyde) couldn't bear another; but she did three years later claiming it was a miracle of God. Suspicious, I asked my doctor about this and he said it's possible but a one in a million chance. My daughter doesn't look anything like me, even though I refuse to accept someone else is the father. How can my wife and I have a baby? Do we go to church and pray for a miracle paying money to light candles, or pull one out of the caption lingering above our heads? Surrogate, adoption, the unexplained? Time will tell, and a mythology will center around it. Good material for a new section of the Wonderland Amusement Park . . . the Park where nothing is as it seems; my conscious and subconscious minds play together on a rusty teeter totter on the edge of the big dipper and ask you to join me in a room of mirrors open to interpretation. Come through the turnstile. Admission is free. Enter at your own risk.

how come you

you're watching movies

i 'm not

allowed to watch . . .


inside me,

a fool juggling


tonight i

learn the truth

about a

spell cast on me

in the palengke*

*palengke: pa len kay

an open wet marketplace

calm water . . .

the stench of fresh


it hurts me

to admit why

i failed to

love another til

i wasn't complete

who will

orion hunt tonight?

autumn moon

i watch you

every morning in bed,


why you haven't left me . . .

northerly winds

we drank iced

margaritas tonight . . .

without stars

will noon walk

away from me into

a misty glen . . .

her kimono bought

at a discount?

late night . . .

she enjoys the

empty stalls

will she fall

into a dream she

can't escape . . .

clouds resting on

faraway mountains?

unemployed . . .

winter seen through a

brandy glass

tonight we

ate foto maki

and walked through

christmas candles

into the tiange*

*tiange(chung gay): series of small booths

the grace of

an egret flying . . .

through my head

and dawn,

cruel keeper of all that

feeds us . . .

has she forgotten me,

this muddied reflection?

bow to

shadow's creeping silence . . .

and swallowed

robert d. wilson


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