WAR
War is the namesake of the islands
A Dantean discernment will not
Permit one to argue that
The archipelago
Is a paradise
Lost or regained
Of the islands’ fetid state
Excrement and humans sanctimoniously fuse
They cajole in ecstatic screams
Over killings and bombings
Gore is everyday’s luscious panorama
We’re brought back to Rome
Here
Where jubilant crowds satiate themselves
With sights of bloody gladiators
In combat
Brought back to Jesus’ Jerusalem still
Since everyone wants to play
Pilate
Guiltless of motives behind
Wars
In hinterlands
In cities
Is gore the imprimatur of honor indeed?
Just like blood is eaten as delicacy?
[Writ. 29 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]
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