THEME—heads

Iqāmah Staircase

“Why did they leave, fearless when exposing the fragility of the first place?” 

“This is not the time for Why am I mining dead a massive stockpile in the area,” said beast, he said Mother, I am Teeth. These first- and second-waves, created by a dolphin (estimated earthly lead, mercury, cadmium, arsenic, as well as downsizing chats, statuses, myths about love, family, betrayal, and satin textures in water), rehearsed and wholly resonated with me. 

“We’re in very violent fumes emitted by tweets of being free.”

Happyland dust contains heavy stylized, wet finger-called “tent moment,” says Jacob, “but the truth is, it took my breath around the Burmese elephant as a horse being to Dancing. An older mix of the animals (i.e., that they live and breathe in coal no longer available) seemed to pretty new ways of being cities.”

Sang-ayon ako rito—

—dahil sakto, lagpas sa mga retorikang kung susurii’y nagpapalabnaw sa halaga ng mga pangunahing serbisyo ng titser—pagtuklas o pagbuo ng bagong kaalaman, paglapat ng kaalamang ito sa paglilingkod, at siyempre, pagtuturo.

Mas makatuwirang tutukan ang mga “wagas” kung “makaraket, maka-junket, maka-research gold rush sa disaster areas” kahit mas madaling tatakan ng sumbat ang mga kamay na nagungulekta’t nagtsetsek ng mga papel.

The Agusan Monologues

“Please open yourself to another way a few horizontal metallic strips slightly bind a people here,” she said. “Your body’s not going to give fruits, wild boar, and clear mushrooms.”

“He was a mannequin to stop progressives, and they had a hard past when I started it, was gone in three months,” the history forest resembling “festering, controlled by learning to listen.”

“I go for lace and the stripper coal, and Face Oils, and sores on the back of five people to hug them.”

“They’ve been ending,” suggests the inspirations behind the “deeply Objectifying St. of Small Bombs  and if I’m really lucky, I find people’s schools.”

Come—raw

Medical Inspection, 0.83×0.61 m.

This is on us: we held hands, gave it moisture. “Sure,” you exhale, but “life’s not something you get to do every day.” Or wait, is it everyday? Syntax nazis want their manifestoes spic n’ not so little as to swing Jose or Bonaparte. Happening upon brown, they unclasp their founder pens and color it service, together, in English unison—at the y-fora of the bimonthly. And if so, only when the others are busy looking... aaight? Baffore us the pawid table: a lidded party light, and a choice between caregiver or caretaker. We took his lying / down, once, and great great children streamed from cell-groups to bust our hinges, so unafraid were they of the abaci. A guanxi agent will come by shortly to take this call—don’t worry your hansom, infraracial head—as well as that decisive moment to grease an axiom of decency upon which was established the suns: stand upright and burn a few minutes more, never to tell anybody it’s going to be okay it’s going to be okay. Not just any body.

Yes sir.

See you all next sem din. Thanks

Rage—warmth

Blouet, 0.61×0.49 m.

Thanking you would scatter you. Packed with ice from the nearest sari-sari, a receiving cloth makes passing acquaintance with your notions. Shadow lunch, timid lunch, and there’s no letting go. Though once, there sprang some salmon, and silver running a circle on top like a halo, but now a membrane’s starched against all that. That’s not rain, that’s decision, pieces of decision, some denser than others. Was to report on the dryness of youth, however... I ran out. Our tenderness thus resigned to a joining. My shoulder a shadow of yours, my collar a chip off your bone. So we took liberties with chalk and pardon / shut the lids. The rest can’t be ash but a finely crunched, deliberate sprinkling of replica. And only if your dream isn’t you shall it count.