Inclusiveness

Long ago , courage deserted us and our thought soon froze in its tracks .Our spiked hair rose to the sky as the cold air bit into our bones.

White rain poured on our thatched roofs forming yellow snakes of waters, outside rusted window rails on the yellow- dropped leaves.

Yesterday was the day of cockfights .The birds stared at their bound legs waiting to bleed their bird-friends. A white fluid glistened in our pots. We went high on our smelly rice drinks. We made a rope circle among trees that was the bloody arena for cocks.

Our basket threw up big plastic dice .Our village youth staked a day’s labor .Our children now have blue uniforms .They will one day be clerks in office .Our women will stop to transplant rice paddies.

Our gods have stopped being angry .But whatever we did in billowing skirts our moment never came, actually. Inclusiveness submerged all, just like yellow sick-sweet fly-riding pulp. The fluidity of confusion remained.