What is more certain than all this upending??
I can’t tell my gut from my heart, my mind from
A warp of wood that turns up sudden chairs.
Each bedpost tells its name to sinking mirrors.
We call out numbers from lost addresses.
Everything that has lost a pair has lost it
For good: slippers, shoes, bicycle wheels,?
child torn from a hip. The loose dials of a clock
Tell me either time runs or time stops.
Everywhere a skiff, a makeshift oar
Bears me away from where I hardest
Push, losing signs and street names
In the pull of my steer. Each one
The last way home, each home
That last attachment bolts undo.
This is where it ends, this sinking swell
Where I cry out your name and you tell me
Go on, and I go on without you.
by Mookie Katigbak-Lacuesta | Art Informal
The Big Room
September 19 through October 17, 2015
277 Connecticut Street, Greenhills East,
Mandaluyong City, Philippines