Bus Terminal

A Poem by jessicawrites

If I could swim underneath the

White fluorescence of Paranaque, flop

My strange scales against these horridly

Even square tiles, I’d haul my body

Swinging PVC vent to PVC vent, stab my

Vengeful illicium in these quantum dots

Taunting glutathione and motorcycles on sale.

I’d sink my fangs on these glowing lights,

These artificial stars. I’d grow big and swallow the

Ceiling made of wood and the men made of

Dynamite.

But I am at the tail-end of a school, a hive-mind

Moving only to the wave-sway of the pitiful

Collective. I glide above the sea floor brightly

Bleached, and others follow, others with or

Without gills. We have developed a slow dance

Made of tiny drifts forward, tail upon tail,

A phalanx of bright red tongues spilled out,

Guts bared,

Grasping for life-giving air.