By HEZRON PIOS
Okay, if you’re so, so funny—
why not make a stunt about leaving your office
this instant and never take it back?
You’ll do a great favor to History books and bayarang midya
which won’t even dare to revise.
Headlines will set your name in bold below a photo of you crying for real.
To be honest, I am tired of rolling my eyes every time
I see your face on the screen, giving bad speeches.
I don’t blame you if you think what I’m saying seems incomprehensible
but a vacancy in the seat can be considered
phenomenal at this moment.
For a year or so, you’ve invented gimmicks not even the false hero buried
in the Land of Heroes managed to think of. It’s not in the howness of things
if ever you get to be thrown to the nearest dumpster
but the manuscript in which you, and your invisible gun, and your checkered polo
will be devoid of meaning. It’ll be a best-selling book
with everyone buying copies for themselves and their children’s children.
You’ll be known as the man who was nothing less of a living joke,
the man who promised breathless Change. I’m waiting
for the punchline to punch you really hard.
Let me punch you really hard.
Hezron Pios received a BA degree in Communication from the University of St. La Salle. His poems have appeared in Glucose, Katitikan, The Spectrum, and Yuwana. He dreams of exploring visual arts and building a pop-up library someday. He lives in Bacolod City.