is an edifice half on stilts and half unroofed for a newborn’s entrance into the world

is the crimson edging his mother’s skirt as she lies on a makeshift couch waiting for the afterbirth

is the blueprint of darkness drawn in detail beneath a swell of water

is the hollow in the wall of the factory and the sign over a buried church reading Esperar

is the ring of beaten silver around the Badjao woman’s finger and the slow listing of the ferry

is the peeling bark of trees disguised as outriggers stranded in the shoals

is the lantern burning its last store of oil and the doctor tearing his surgical coat into strips

is the helicopter and its cargo of bottled water hovering over no place to land

is the republic of the drowned and its plazas decorated with abandoned basketball courts

is the bread of nothing and the salt of nothing and the crust of nothing freely shared

is the new address of the dead whose gravestones have all been moved to the sea

is the children carrying a jug of water and a clutch of nearly deflated balloons they found lashed to a tree


In response to Via Negativa: Typhoon.

2 Replies to “Afterwards”

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