If not, bend and curb them 

Some more by finishing a Lit M.A.

       Later, with a teeny-weeny

Twinge of guilt one craves

Bibingka or other kakanin,

       Make the Season's compromise

 

With a vague little notion of Identity:

Nostalgia is an impure bedfellow,

       An improviser of need and

Contrivance like a child’s Christmas

Tambourine made of tansan—

       Coke caps pounded flat—

 

And strung together with wire

To create the clink and tinkle 

       Of “sleigh bells in the snow,”

And to close the street kids’ carol

At one’s doorstep, after the gift of coins, 

       With Tenkyu, tenkyu,

       Ang babait ninyo, tenkyu!

 

 

Marne Kilates

23 December 2018

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