Imelda Of Our Binationalized Lives

Call it madness,

This search

For lives

That splurges

On technicolor dreams

In a black and white

World of exiles

Like us.

We have come

From the heart

Of mountains

And wombs

Of islands.

We have arrived

From the edges

Of sin and salvation

Multiplied a hundredfold

With the promises

Of virgin politicians,

They who become vendors

Of national despair


One we see

From morgues

In the night.

Oh, our soul

Will look for us

In the last lights

Even as we define

Place and space here,

Here, in this dreamland

Of green cards,

Of green money too

That redeems us

From the sorrowful sums

From small gods,

They who corrupt us

To appease our hunger

To relieve our pain,

They who people

Our nightmares

In many dark nights


By a word oozing with stale


Aurelio S. Agcaoili

Dec. 14, 2004

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