Manila Airport Chronicle

I’m tripping over my feet
My thoughts
My tongue is stuck to
The roof of my mind

I walk forwards when I
Should walk backwards

I feel like I was shipped
Here in a baliktad box

My boarding pass is a
Tongue stamped with
Words that I don’t know

And my tongue is a
A slag of mud

The voices sing over
My head and my thoughts
Trip over my words
Trip over my feet
And there is no rate
Of exchange for the words
I cannot give or the heart
I give freely yet skips
Over it’s own beat and
Rhythm in amplitudes of
Waves unmeasured

I am tripping over my feet
As I watch my people walk
Softly upon the earth

I follow them in the
Airport in Manila

With my

As my feet
Try to find
The words
I keep tripping

(C) 2017 Tony Robles.


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