The Flood

distracted from a reading for History class, i decided to post this badboy.

Cainta, Rizal. Eastern Manila.

Stranded on the Bridge. Cainta.

Kasi Naman Ondoy

i asked my Ate today
how do you walk neck-deep in water?
she said, “ewan ko.”

kinumusta ko tatay ko
siya kasi Manilenyo
sabi sa kin nung matandang gago :
di na kapre, siokoy na ko.
ikaw na lang ang tanungin ko:

paano lumakad kung
naka lublob ka na sa tubig
- which is super kadiri -
hanggang sa leeg mo?

anong gagawin mo kung nawala na
ang lahat ang lahat ang lahat lahat!
ang lahat ng pag-aari mo ?

kinuha na ng baha
nalunod na’t nawala:
bagay, bahay,
nanay’t, tatay.

oh, but wait, we have:
cars  overturned,
floating like toys
much like the little boy’s -
but those he lost, too
in a river five metres deep that was
not there yesterday;
an essential photograph of
a  woman’s body
mangled
and looted of everything
she was trying to salvage –
useless
she left herself unsaved.

there is a thick coating
of mud and loss
the same hue
over everything in a city
i once called home
pero hindi naman natin ma-bla-blame
ang tubig ang typhoon na si Ondoy

gaano man siya kalakas
gaano man kabilis nasira ang lahat

we can’t

dahil tayo rin naman ang gumawa nito, e
we had a hand in it too

baha calamity heavy rains

today i asked my Ate
how do you flee neck-deep in water
brown-grey-black from city sewage
brown-grey-black from the wreckage?

how do you walk damage-deep in water?

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