All those penguins and ratcatchers, film-infested lover, unlikely storyteller, lovestruck man-boy, cold, cold night on top of the city where the first official hello happens, reading unwritten diaries, screaming all those metaphors, critiquing, so to drown the night’s karaoke scores, may-I-buy-you-a-cup-of-coffee, and oh-hello-it’s-me-the-devil-himself-will-you-go-out-with-me, sweaty grey shirt, pasta for lunch, forget-the-subtitles-coz-we-came-to-squint-through-this-dvd’s-blackness, Kerouac in your head, Bjork in your throat, meet-me-again-tomorrow-and-let’s-pretend-we-never-met, the classic passive responses, secret blogger, love-seeker, beer-bottle-bearer, so come on down and bring all the shoulda-woulda-coulda’s.
Four years and counting
By the door
in your grey shirt
when the calendar says 29.
(inviting you all to WILA's Gugma sa Leap Year dinner show at Casa Gorordo Museum, Feb16'08, 7pm, mas daghan pang mga balak ang basahon didto ;D)