To appease the women,
the government decided
all men should stay at home at night.
Nights are for sisterhood.
Nights are for our bar hopping,
tequila after tequila – shot after shot
until we forget the whole world.
Nights are for us, child-bearing people
who forget ourselves just to please all.
Nights are for all the hobbies we missed:
book after book, painting after painting,
film after film.
Nights are for us, daughters of the moon.
Ina ng primera naming kaso
Ina sa kakapiranggot na butas sa kalasag
Ina ng buntong-hiningang hindi parinig
Ina ng nakatitiyak lang tayo kung abo
Reyna ng paninibago sa pinaglumaan
Reyna ng mga takot tumawag sa awtoridad
Maestra ng pisara sa dilim
Birhen ng tela lalo’t angkop ang materyales
Birhen ng mga halamang-ugat
Ina ng sampu na raw sila sa barangay
Birhen ng belo sa bibig
Birhen ng sino sa inyo ang hindi nagbuhos
Birhen ng mawawalan kami ng trabaho kung hindi kayo magtitiis
Birhen ng mga paliwanag at maaari na kayong lumabas
Hindi tanang nawawala ay sumakabilang-búhay—
Ako itong si Convida, isang bugkot na totoong
Inadhikang makawala upang makapagbanyuhay.
Gabi noon nang maligaw sa labirinto ng parang,
Lumagos sa punong toog upang lisanin ang mundong
Hindi tanang nawawala ay sumakabilang-búhay.
what you don’t know can hurt you
what you don’t know can turn your body
against you
—Brian Russell
Blessed are those with low pain tolerance: The world drops you mid-air
then asks, Are you alright? In 2014, my name got crossed out of a lineup
consisted of 12 members for an interschool dance competition I dreamt
of joining since sophomore year. If I had the guts back then, I could have
been expelled from school at 16. If I had the guts back then, I would not be
talking about this, and that, this, that, this, that, this, that, and this, though
I’m getting ahead of myself. The narrative begins in the part where I was in
the parking lot, practicing. Post-lunch, our crew leader turned on the music
from his portable speaker. I walked towards the stage. I warmed up and up.
Then, collapse.
Consider to pocket this moist
Layer of loam: a cache of glass,
Ore, bones before the banyaga
Rattles the ground. The myth
Describes a gentry of anitos
Walked this very earth, sated
With salamanca. It should be
A given that we’ve sculpted
Enough idols in our mind
Rochelle Ann Molina 
Dennis Andrew Aguinaldo 
Mark Bonabon 
Hezron Pios