by Papa Osmubal
A vast ocean
of jagged
shards
Gaping
and intending
to drown
Before it
everyone
is a wounded Narcissus
MIRROR II
I looked into a mirror.
And in it I saw one who looked like me.
I said, ‘shit!’
he said, ‘shit!’
I said, ‘piss off!’
he said, ‘piss off!’
I left.
Obviously he did not.
When I again looked into the mirror
he was still in there.
RUMOR
Someone said Jesus Christ is homo.
I can’t remember who it was.
The point is, do not tell this to the Muslims.
They will not declare Jihad.
They will not take it to the streets.
They will not hurl stones and burn flags.
Do not also tell it to the Dalai Lama,
it is absolutely none of his business.
What about the Hindus?
For Pete’s sakes, leave them dreaming and floating.
The Sufis? The Scientologists?
No way, they are busy dancing and counting stars.
They are busy waiting for the coming of the big-eyed
green men.
And do not tell it the Pope in Rome.
He will just smile.
TO A BUM
I
Wake up,
your moon
has abandoned you.
II
Wake up,
the sun
is on your doorstep.
III
Stop whispering to your pillow.
Talk to a living thing.
Talk to a tree.
THIS GODDAMN SOCIETY
Tonight, my dear, we will not make love.
That will have its own good time.
Tonight I will tell you a story of bravery
and we will join forces chasing those roaches.
Papa Osmubal writes from Macau, Southern China. He is
currentl y an MA student at the University of Macau,
taking up MA in English Studies. Take away his political
rights and he will not whimper; but do not ever touch his
beer. His works, literary and visual, have appeared in
various publications, hardcopy and online.
