Any other day

 

Last night I couldn't sleep.

Before dawn I dreamt of home.

This morning,

I woke up nonetheless, at seven sharp,

Before the alarm clock.

I also cut myself shaving.

I didn't have breakfast,

Nor could I drink tea.

Last night I couldn't sleep,

The fan broke down at midnight sharp.

The heat blanketed the city

And stifled every sigh.

A little before dawn, the rain was so thin

That it fell like snow.

In the morning the air was still between

All the cars roaring to work.

Not a locust could be heard.

There was dirt on the traffic policeman's white cotton glove.

The billboards were immobile, like all good billboards.

At dawn a civet snatched a kitten

From his mother's lap,

Tacitly conceded as sacrifice

On the hungry altar of Nature.

A little after dawn, a cry was heard.

It was difficult to ascertain if it was human or not.

Next morning, the mother would be seen alone,

Licking her swollen teats.

Well past midnight, within a streetlight's radius,

A detective reported a single white, leather shoe,

A cigarette butt, a dead cockroach and half a pandan leaf, widthwise.

This was yet another scene of unsolvable abduction.

And when I parred my fingernails

Early on the morning balcony,

I thought about God and insisted

On cutting them too short.

Either the flesh or the mind are weak,

But these are all we have.

My glasses were nowhere to be found

But right on my nose.