The Neighbourhood

And the music from the neighbourhood waxes,
collects smoke from yesterday’s conversation.
And the tea kettle pot puffs another faithless
translation of a strange intervention.
Which is like placing the beers with toy guns
and sanitary napkins. Armageddon is coming
to you when you least expect it. Heavy,
quite the world babies in cribs want to hug
with their tiny T-Rex arms unmindful
of its axis mundi that supports the insects
marching around a crumb called curiosity,
or maybe patrolling one winter night
above the clouds sprinkled with graffiti art.
During overcast days out in the street,
dotted with basketball courts, you would
enjoy black motorcycles muffling the noise
yard after sprouting yard, rocking the entire
neighbourhood with the only music that is
relevant to a perambulating landscape:
Eunoia. Such emergency won’t break
my bones. Ashtrayed your intentions in.
An aubade in front of the TV set, you would
say was written for Dinosaur Jr. to play
in your head like skateboard silhouettes.
And dancing you suddenly surrounded
yourself with McDonald’s character mascots
and showed me your world. And according
to the gaze, life is coming, they are coming.

Lawdenmarc Decamora holds an MFA in creative writing and is currently finishing his MA in literary and cultural studies. He is a literature professor in the oldest existing Catholic university in Asia, the University of Santo Tomas. His literary work has appeared or is forthcoming in Cordite Poetry Review, The Ilanot Review, Kartika Review, Spittoon Literary Magazine, Peacock Journal, TAYO Literary Magazine, We Are A Website, The Pangolin Review, LONTAR, Asian American Writers’ Workshop’s Transpacific Literary Project, Rambutan Literary, Shot Glass Journal, Ginosko Literary Journal, Mad Swirl, Chrome Baby, New Southerner, In Between Hangovers, Panoplyzine, The Cadaverine, and many others. He lives in the Philippines.

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