"Still into wrestling?"
Asked she of the rattlesnake passion.
My shirt answered with the man,
Decorated in historical gold.
But that son of a gun,
Excellent in working,
Would attend her clinic,
Certified for slaying of deadly fishes.
"Why not [along Katipunan]?"
Inquired he who was called Jun.
Indeed wealth would pour
Like blood in an AP account
But I, a neighbor of the Eagles,
Am driven by a traditional debt.
I believe the value is consistent
With those in his blue-coded subject.
And the value was invoked
As I passed Mariano's room.
"If you'll be here, so will I,"
Her Silang-strong words proclaimed.
Is it nothing more than foolish nostalgia,
This circular, winding road I am taking?
My heart tells me to bring my best
To the birthplace of DJ-Kezon.
Before I fought, I flew.
May the sea welcome me back when I pass.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
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