-kimee
As early as the mothers sun their
month-old babies in the day, beauty
parlors in the barangay
at the foot of the dumpsite
are open. All five of these can
anytime replace the cracked crow of
cocks in the neighborhood.
The cocks, cooped, shrivelled, puny and
no longer the phallic legends that
they were, are ill from yesterday's derby.
The gay parloristas, though, don't seem
to be at all weary despite
their nightly cockfights.
Why be?
Everyday is a good commerce
of snips, slashes, bobs and shrill
uranist cackles about the town
prostitute's genuflections in dark
damp corners.
This is juicy breakfast fare
masterfully served by the transvestite with
his utensils of pusher and nipper clearing, cleaning and scraping off
shavings of nail, dust, relics of the weeks scavenging;
tribulations
accumulating into
a heap on a spoon not even today's
rice can fill.
