Never do sons return to their fathers’ home

Never do sons return to their fathers’ home:
People of desolation always flow
with the tide of broken songs:

R rots in a US naval station,
his old left eye halfblind;
E jumps boat to London,
picks up on the way a fat Nordic wife;
V writes from New York, Chicago, Frisco
to survivors of Tibag-Mafia gang;
E aborts farm in Antipolo
to smith poems in the flood of hearts;
D constructs his private Walden,
Macchu Picchu on his own plateau;
A flies to America
where art & love are changeable residue;
D catcradles a novel,
spell of Chinese dragons, San Miguel & sty;
M walks her babies & blues
invests in stocks, lottery & Fiera;
E melts his manhoodwith Grumbacher,
anchors planets/stars with his Third Eye;
D traps snakes somewhere in Luzon,
traces truth, holograph & fiction;
J translates Rizal into French,
enters China for PhD & history;
B coughs up knives & blood
in Palawan penal colony;
J guzzles gallons of Gilbey in Guam,
oils airplanes & mealymouthed maids;
P executes karateka,
hones his wit, trantra & philosophy;
L digs up old acts & Redford sting,
writes his own play to barge into the scene/
E plays the piano, snuggles to Muse of Poetry,
besieges Moloch to calm old Daddy;
M sticks to her puppy love & literature,
whispers Mary, Miller & Silliman bulls;
G spears doves in the winding air,
types at fantastic speed eureka of bestial fair;
A banners rise & fall & rise of familial glory,
secret his loves yet pinned down in short story;
R abandons prose for beers & cards,
dreams of cleaning all, his ultimate Art;
L drags Berkeley to native territory,
sticks a note she’ll drown in angst & history;
N laughs off slips & danger circuit,
skins plug to electrify & hiss;
R marries as if in maidenhead frenzy,
leaves all lovers gnashing in the lee;
E grows fat & fair cooking spaghetti,
attends to Teatro’s props & prosperity;
R roars down the highway on Harley Davidson,
guzzles wagers like orphans hooked on gin;
M sends letters & keeps house in LA,
squirms for deliverance to Picasso’s way;
C goes out of her mind,
cuts the air with nail clipper & soliloquy;
E psyches his guts out,
wrestles with imaginary tigers & anthology;
R draws spaceships watermelon seeds,
flicks on TV like a lazy maid;
L screams up the stairs,
clutching her Dr. Seuss & koala bear

Never do sons return to their fathers’ home:
People of desolation always flow
with the tide of broken songs:

From Collection/ Rosary of Summer, 1977

This entry was posted in POETRY OF EDEL GARCELLANO, selected by G.Y. Guillermo. Bookmark the permalink.

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