Motorized Tricycle in Manila

Wrapped in candy wrapper
Notions of sky
Of heaven
Of hell
Of soil
Of soul

The tricycle
Gears bloom
Mud-caked toes
oil and rust

The clicking
Procession presses forward
In mid and full swallow of
Fumes and in the pauses
Between chews of

Moving with the flow
Of blood, this brood
Of traffic, this ambivalence
Of tendons and tensions
Cloaked in grace in a day
To day matinee of survival

The tricycle moves
Ahead, the motor clicking
Like a movie camera as
Film coats the eyes giving
Shape and dimension to
What is and what is not seen

What is distorted
In the heart’s lens

The driver sees
it all, has seen it
all in the unblinking
shots of rain
delivering the corpses
of yesterday’s flowers

And the motorized
Tricycle is a

Capturing the

Every bullet
Piercing the
Wall of the skin
Of anonymity

Moving through
Bone, shattering

And the
Hour ahead

(C) 2017 Tony Robles


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