more on torero

Listening
to dreams
Torero's doesn't weep.

He
turns away
from the sound.

A resolute man,
Torero has
always

been
decisive and
decided about what

needs to be done.

#

His job title
Mechanica Man
means

tuning in to
the sounds
of

the world beyond
the paradise
wall.

He listens for
the cough
of

a motor yielding,
hearkens to
the

sound of brakes
screeching, giving
way

as the road
slides down
into

the balance between
life and
death.

It is often
death for
the

machine.
And the
abyss claims the

carcass
of discarded
bodies, some still

shiny and new
gleaming chrome
and

sweet-smelling leather everywhere.
From this
Torero's

calculating eye sees
the body
they

can put together.
Already he
knows

what form can
be pulled
from

resilience.
He knows
what shapes hide

within the curved
contours of
bumpers

doors
sweet and
dark secretive undercarriages.

#

For all his
years and
expertise

he has never
found a
one

to compare to
her who
lives

her life of
lonely happiness
beyond

the wall that
keeps them
apart.

third movement==alternate girl dreams and torero listens

In the middle
of the
night

she
hears a
crunch and knows

whose
teeth are
making that noise.

She doesn't need
the lights.
She

doesn't need to
see his
face.

Memory
is printed
onto the coils

of her inner
circuits. She
knows

he won't stop
searching until
he

finds
skin and
bone and crunches

them to powder
between his
teeth.

#

Far away, nightmares
find their
way

to
where Torero
watches the dark.

Whispers
of her
fear filter through

the paradise wall
and he
knows

he could be
wretched, but
she

suffers
her life
in imagined freedom

with a pain
that goes
deeper

than the pain
he carries
in

the shell of
his metal
casing.

Above him the
Memory Tower
sways

Rocked by night
winds, it
dances

under lonely stars,
the songs
of

those gone before
reminding citizens
below

"we gave up
everything so
you

might have this
hope of
someday

reaching up high
and breaching
this

wall
that keeps
us away from

the paradise we
are told
exists

on the other
side of
this

wall."

True Chapter Two -- Torero

Torero
stares out
into the dark.

Below,
the city
sleeps and dreams.

At this time
of night
remembrance

visits
and reminds
Torero of possibilities.

Could have beens
he's left
behind.

Tomorrow's
routine lies
mapped inside the

circuits
of his
good left brain.

Tick
through lists:
things to do,

things to say,
things to
recall,

deactivate,
assimilate, revalidate,
deconstruct, reconstruct, reactivate.

His
life ruled
by these lists

they never let
go, not
even

in the dark
of night
when

all
the city
lies sleeping, dreaming,

tossing,
turning on
the currents of

lost
hopes and
empty pocket promises.

Torero closes his eyes and makes a wish.

#

Long ago, when
he was
new

a young rebuild
filled with
dreams

he
thought the
city was more

than this assemblage
of metal
struts

decaying
corpses of
dead and gutted

utility
vehicles. Discards
of another earth.

Someone told him.
He laughed,
looked

up at the
memory tower
imagined he could

reach up to
the very
top

thought
he could
see the future

shining
down on
him, beckoning him

to fulfill his
full potential.
Be

what you were
created to
be.

So the slogan
goes. He
bought

it all. Hook,
line and
sinker.

Believed
because he
didn't dare to

look
beyond what
they wanted him

to.
The mechanics,
old slogan masters,

builders
and sustainers
of a lifestyle

existing only on
this side
of

the paradise wall.

No
one ever
breaches the wall

they told him.
and he
would

have
kept the
faith, 100% believing.

If not for
her. She
haunts

him still. The
only one
who

ever got away.
He'll never
forget

her
face or
the serial number

on a plate
now part
of

the shielding over
his heart.
Betrayal

or
hope. He
can only keep

on believing she's
somewhere out
beyond

the paradise wall
living the
dream

she always talked
about. Alternate
Girl.

He speaks her
name aloud
cherishing

this secret moment
before he
erases

it from the
memory loop.
Maybe...

falls
into the
labyrinth of mangled

wishes
never spoken
aloud, just in

case someone hears.

##

forgiveness

forgive
the author
who has sinned

committed
this act
of secret violence

against the form
committed trespass
without

the reader's knowledge
and so
compromised

a story's heart
for the
sake

of
a vision
the creature thought

existed.
Let us
proceed as intended

by
story undirected
by the author's

manipulations.
Release story
into this form

This is the
act of
penance.

The previous chapter
erased as
if

it had never
been told
or

written
or thought
or brought to

life.
Let us
proceed as story

intended
before human
thought stepped in.

Chapter Two -- in which we meet Adventure Boy

Adventure Boy waits
at the
junction

between
Metal Town
and the road

to anywhere you
want to
be.

He listens to
the sound
of

distant
traffic--the
gentle susurrus of

wheels
and wind
and knows help

isn't as near
as wishes
it.


He bends,inspects
the wheel
mutters

an imprecation. He
should have
known.

Things
happen at
the worst times.

A flat tire
in the
middle

of nowhere is
not exactly
his

idea of convenience.
He looks
back

towards the sound
of traffic
and

shakes his head.
He looks
forward

to where the
tops of
metal

struts
seem to
pierce the afternoon

sky.
He sighs.
He can take

the long walk
back to
the

highway
or take
the short walk

to the center
of this
place

often
heard about
but never seen.


#

If
you asked
he would tell

you the truth.
He has
no

recollection
of where
he came from.

He only remembers
following the
road

and getting here.
If asked
he

would say he
wishes he
could

remember
father, mother,
sisters, brothers, aunts

the entire gamut
of family
each

of us possess
and yet
he,

this Adventure Boy,
does not
remember

ever having. All
he remembers
is

journeying
from one
town to the

next
in search
of an unnameable

in search of
an unknown
something.

#

He shoulders his
backpack, locks
his

door
inspects the
road and starts

walking.
And this
is how he

meets Alternate Girl
a.k.a. Tough
Girl.

#


Shift back to
now, shift
back

to Alternate Girl
with her
eyes

closed
as memory
rushes through her.

A cliché of
waves rushing
in

from the sea,
a cliché
of

the ocean’s roar
multiplied inside
her

head.
This is
how she remembers

meeting
Adventure Boy.
This is how

she
remembers the
start of forever

after.

#

Once
she was
their fearless leader.

A
bunch of
Metal Town kids.

Born to this
life. Born
with

the knowledge of
this is
how

today looks like
but tomorrow
could

be the day
our lives
end.

They travel the
insides of
their

town.
They possess
the hidden highways,

Own
secret networks
and secret signals.


When
Adventure Boy
starts walking the

system is activated.
Hoots and
Whistles

The thrumming of
Heels on
Metal

Pipes,
All send
A warning signal.

Stranger Approaching. Beware.
It is
She

Who
Meets this
Stranger. It is

She who comes
Out into
The

Open,
Confronts him
And asks him

“what’s your business
In Metal
Town?”

#

She remembers the
Sunshine. His
Eyes.

Brown
With flecks
Of golden light.

She remembers her
Breath stopping
And

The queer sound
Her heart
makes

He smiles and
It is
like

catching
sight of
a beautiful dream.

She is awkward
And shy
And

Conscious
Of the
Angles of her

Body
And the
Way her clothes

Are
Two sizes
Much too large

She
wishes she
had taken time
to wipe away
the stains
from

fixing
cars and
riding the rails

and even though
he doesn’t
do

anything but smile
she resents
him

for making her
feel uncertain
and

unfamiliar
and suddenly
so very unsure

of her role
as renegade
leader
of this ragtag
band of
boys

and
girls. Metaltowners
just like her.

First Alternate Girl post is here
Second Part of Chapter One
Third part of Chapter one up to end of Chapter One
Alternate Girl (interlude): Introducing Metal Town

Interlude (Alternate Girl)

Metal Town is
neither here
nor

there.
It is
everywhere and anywhere.

It moves with
the wind
and

travels with the
breeze. It
follows

the road and
the traveler
who

trusts the road
to take
him

there.
Metal Town
is not for

the gentle heart
Or weak
kneed.

Metal Town is
for tough
girls

In a previous
life, Alternate
Girl

was Tough Girl.
**

Alternate Girl (the rest of chapter one)

Alternate girl follows
the curve
of

the Pasig River;
follows its
wind,

follows
its stink.
Murky waters old
as
time. (no
matter how you

dredge
the memory
of stink remains.)

She
sees lights
on the river,

Lights along the
river bank,
Knows

whose homes are
lighted by
candles

and whose homes
are connected
with

illegal wires to
cables running
from

one street to
the other.
Age-old

practice
you don’t
forget no matter

the number of
miles/airmiles
you collect from

years of flying
to and
fro

between
this place
and that continent.

She follows the
river and
lights,

listens
to sounds
carried on wind.

It
is never
silent in this

place.
There is
always someone crying.

There is always
someone cursing,
always

someone
praying for
help that doesn’t

arrive-
at least
never on time.

Until tonight.
***
Float
on with
your ears open.

You will hear
a baby
crying.

Its wails piercing
the restless
night.

Its forlorn cry
hushing fighting
couples,

Stealing the breath
from cursing
boys

Turning the thief
from his
stealing.

She follows the
cry. Floats
on

until she sees
a poor
excuse

for a house.
***
Inside
a mother
holds a baby.

She
must have
been a beauty

before she said
Yes and
embraced

this life so
much the
same

as the lives
her parents
lived.

What else is
there to
dream

of
when you
don’t see anything

but
this and
when you don’t

hear anyone say
you are
better

you can be
better than
this?

***

Alternate Girl watches
through the
window.

Sees the mother
wipe tears
away.

Her heart breaks.
she could
have

been
that mother.
She could have

been
that long
ago beauty queen

crying
tears over
a feverish child.
***

Third act…

Alternate girl’s home
built of
brick

the front garden
her calling
card.

Every other Monday
she attacks
weeds


gardening
in style:
flowered rubber boots

the latest shovel
anti-insect spray
anti-snail

anti-aphid
anti-mildew, anti-rot
anti-every possible pest

you can think
of under
the

sun.
Of which,
There isn’t much

all year round.
Unlike back
home

where the sun
always shines
or

so
the travel
brochures proudly declare.

She
lavishes care
on her perennials

brushes
their leaves
to high shine

Wraps bubble wrap
around them
when

temperatures
sink below
zero. Waters them

during
summer months
that are slowly



turning
tropical. It’s
almost like home.

Almost
but not
quite the same.

Enjoy
the summer
while you can

when
winter comes
you can dream

all you want
but the
sun

never shines bright
and warm
like

it does right
here and
now.
***

Question:
What do
You miss most?

Who do you
Miss most?
If

You
Had one
Wish what would

You wish for?

Alternate girl
Stares

At
The screen
Another silly questionnaire

Always
The same
Spam, spam mail

Except
This one
Comes from friends

They think it’s
A sign
Of

Friendship
To pass
On the junk

That makes them
Laugh. Because
Laughter

Is
A precious
Commodity. Not to

Be wasted on the ungrateful.

She answers the
Questions anyway.
Silly

Or not, she
loves her
Friends.

***
Evenings
Hubby returns
From the office

Long hours spent
Behind a
Desk

Somewhere in a
Giant warehouse
Lost

Among a hundred
Other employees
All

Wearing
The same
Color of shirt

All
Working towards
Same nameless goal.

How many numbers
Have you
Added

Up today? How
Many numbers?
How

Many?
That’s how
Alternate girl imagines

It.
She doesn’t
Envy her husband.

His job provides
Food, shelter,
Clothing

Luxuries,
Garden supplies
Cleaning supplies, everything

The excess baggage
Of life
And

So on and
So forth
And

So on and
So forth
Until

Until…
***

Return to Pasig
To a
Hut

On the banks
Of the
River

Return to the
Place where
You

Hover
Over the
Poor mother’s shoulder

Return to where
Her tears
Spill

Over her baby
Poor, emaciated
Ragged

Fighting for breath
Fighting for
Life.

Hope
Fighting for
Life in this

Hovel of broken
Dreams. Home
To

Mother and son
Fighting for
Life

Because
As long
As you live

You have hope.
Alternate girl
Sees

Hope’s
Gentle spark
Lighting the corners

Of this tiny
Excuse called
Home.

She
Sees the
Mother’s hands are

Calloused
And worn
From washing clothes.

This
Is where
Dreams of glory

Give way to
The fight
For

Life,
The mundane
Struggle to survive,

The fight for
A better
Future.

A tomorrow for:
This baby
Gasping

For the next
Breath and
Crying

An angry wail
Angry and
Wild.

Life
Pouring out
Of its pores

Alternate girl thinks:
It will
Break

The baby will
Break into
Pieces

It will split
Apart and
Burst

Into a million
unquiet atoms
Populating

Space
With the
Echo of its

Cry, its cough
Its unrelenting
Fight

Its
Unyielding hold
Because as long

As you fight
As long
As

You live there
Is always
Hope.

***

Alternate girl wakes.
It is
Midnight.

The walls of
Her room
Are

Dark
Around her
Everything is dark.

In the silence
Her husband
Snores,

Turns
Over, falls
Silent, snores again.

Rising and falling
In the
Quiet,

She is weeping
Into her
Pillow,

Remembering
Another mother
Holding another child,

Pleading for life,
Pleading for
Help

That never comes,
Until too
Late.


(It's still quite rough, but there you are. This is the end of the first chapter in the life of Alternate Girl. Chapter two: Alternate Girl meets Adventure Boy...coming soon).

Alternate Girl (part two)--alternate girl dreams

Alternate girl dreams
she is
flying

over
Manila. Home
to a hundred

and one dreamers
just like
her.

She glides across
the midnight
sky

hovers
above a
group of teenagers

It’s late, she
wants to
whisper

Shouldn’t
you all
be in bed?

Not
out here
on the streets

serenading
the moon
with puffs of


smoke,
fumes of
beer, relics of

the day’s conversation.
They won’t
listen.

They won’t pay
any attention.
Typical.

Alternate girl thinks.

Alternate Girl (a serialized hay(na)ku story--part one)

After a while
all the
pretty

girls
get married.
The ultimate achievement?

After the honeymoons
do they
ever

wonder
about the
“What could have

beens?”

***
Alternate girl dreams
about the
country.

Far away from
her kitchen
window

she thinks life
could be
better.

She
sees fields
stretching out into

an unending vista
of "what
ifs".


A dutiful wife,
a loving
mother

the model “huisvrouw”.
Her garden
flourishes.


Springtime
brings one
hundred wisteria blossoms.

White English roses
climb her
pergola,

honeysuckle,
digitalis purpurea,
interspersed with lavender

from
Southern France.
Gardening = passion.

Weeds
are her
number one enemy.
***

Recent and Upcoming Publications

Gift -- published in Flash Me Magazine
Rituals of Grief -- published in Reflection's Edge Magazine
The Wordeaters -- upcoming in Weird Tales Magazine

OMFLit Philippines released a book entitled Hope Away from Home. Nine excerpts from my poetic memoir are included in this book which is authored by Evelyn Miranda-Feliciano.