IN QUIAPO WHERE I PRETENDED TO BE A DEVOUT CATHOLIC
I thought it was the neighbor’s cat staring
at me, against my window to clean a bird’s
poop stuck in the corners, but what came
was much stranger. His mouth, watering
from the juice of tomatoes, apples, oranges
still green in the absence of a morning sun.
I pictured that he likes it. A man in his 50s,
he must be so hungry collecting garbage
bags, as he yells at me and shouted if I have
anything I might not need or use anymore.
In my rented room, with cream walls
I like to lean a lot, a few streetlights away
from the Manila City Hall, my reflection
halved, as I reach for the broken mirror
I bought from Quiapo, where I pretended
to be a devout Catholic just to have a free
cross with Jesus nailed to it. And of course,
as much as I want to, I still don’t believe
that it will save me from my failed exams
and also, because I was raised a protestant.
Instead I ambled past the tarot readers, and
watched every single second the sunlight peels
away a layer of this grandma’s mushy sagging
skin, beside these tourists with their eyes glued
into the lenses of their cameras, pleads to
this guy who came out holier from the doorways
of the basilica or so I thought for a second
as he reaches his pockets and cupped his hands
pretending to have something to give
and immediately raises his middle
finger and cursed at her. I didn’t imagine
for her to have such a creepy crackling voice
as she curses back at him.
Jeff William Acosta is a culinary student doubling up as a poet from Ilocos Sur, Philippines. His works appeared in Vox Populi, Revolt Magazine, Asean Youth Forum’s Yuwana Zine Issue #3 and among others. You can also follow him on Instagram at @jjepjjep