by Andrea D. Lim (Poetry)

February 13, 2016, Sibulan Port’s jeepney corner

We are all of equal weight
in manong drayber’s eyes—
as fixed as the minimum fare.

My mind’s carrying
a traffic of questions
heavier than the coins
passed from palm to palms,
like why injustices should
be etched in every Juan’s routines.

Towards him
there are questions
already relayed and received

“No change,”
says the konduktor
when I have to
ask for it
because I occupy
a space for two.

This is the answer.

The coins clink
in his tight grip.


By Andrea Lim (Poetry)

it comes as a parasite
sucking all the reason
why you only go and never leave

it loosens your grip
on the chances you take
once life becomes a mere window
showing the way you have to tread
to reach the goal,
a whatever for now

it leads the soul to hear tales about the silent cries
the walls might never crumble for
about how the bearers of absence
still see you
even inside

it just latches on
when the curtains
have to be closed
then caresses you
when you can still write about the living room
and the people who might never understand your dreams
but love you anyway

all you love anyway