Poem
Tadek
Al P. Garcia
I missed the beatings
Of the wooden drums,
The stumping of
pairs of feets
Upon the trodden bamboos,
The swaying hips that grinds,
The brown stalks into submission
Until it becomes dark white
From the mortar,
As brown bodies
Filled with sweats,
Intermingled with tears,
Body juices erupts
into consuming estacy,
while we dance
deep into the moonless
night.
March 09, 2012
