Filipino Workman in Macao
by Papa Osmubal
I come home from work. Sip an ice-cold beer.
See the evening news. Sip another beer.
Take dinner. Throw garbage. See more TV.
Sip one more beer. Feed the fish.
Sip more beer till I lose sense of mathematics.
Take a bath. Prepare clothes for tomorrow.
Sip more beer till I lose sense of logic. Stagger to bed.
Say a prayer of thanks for not waking up the kids.
And for not waking up the wife who pretends to be asleep.
These go on every day that God made.
And my friend waits to hear from me.
Something new. What shall I tell him?
My life is a thick tome of repetition.
An endless litany of blankness.
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