Sunday, March 18, 2007

Ma'


Oye Luna (a letter of devoted thinking),

Something's hiding. It isn't the last bit of hope, running out of Pandora's box. It isn't the betrayal played by Judas. It isn't the mouse, hurrying to a hole. The trap is chasing her. It isn't the overly psychotic, living in the borderline patient. It isn't constipation of the ass. It isn't even the real rhetoric spewed by the politicians. It is the little boy of 29 years late. He is still in love with ma'. You see, ma' had a problem: she lived for love through her son. No little boy can fill that void. Luna, what of the little boy of 29 years...late, and the ma' who loves life more than living to love the little boy? I daresay that even when ma' brings nipple to lip, the little boy will be too jilted to suck. Who is this ma' now? We shouldn't have to replace her, name her over and over again, or do without intimacy.

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