I dance alone I describe myself, in big empty rooms, in stairwells, in roads laced with the humid evening’s heat all I understand is that I don’t understand I fear a path dancing between the canal and a street of low houses. Are you male or female, you ask, not holding my hand, tremolo and delay I am electric sometimes. Some nights like these, every fortnight perhaps, everything means nothing, which probably means my dog goes, she goes, I go, You go, so there you go with my thought of the day. Brilliant. By the way, I live in the past and in language. How is it there in the present? Tick-tock. How was it? But I’ve already come to know it before, during and after you speak. So please keep your distance, maybe the future can hold you. Me, I only trust numbers but only up to 1,2,3,4. Those are my bestfriends, besides I was born with a missing finger. My motto is to cut the remaining ones off when the right time comes. And then finally, if I could go anywhere, I would go where there are two moons, one for each of us, but not before goodbye, my favorite form of transportation. I hook my soul to a pole and stick it in the ground like a waving flag. It ticks like a metronome to which I sing the blues: Oh my, how I would like to die, after an image, maybe of a house on a train passing-by. The windows are darkened with silhouettes of people dancing, and toasting glasses of brandy. All these people and I happen to know each by his shadow. I dance with my own on my moon with the help of the sun and bid them Goodbye. Why, here in the past, it is such a lovely place to shudder with the memory of hands that almost held one another.
I wrote this after a meme where the game is to answer random questions with song titles from your favorite band. More of an exercise hehe, non-sequiturs and parataxis. The point I think is that coherence is as much of an interpretation for a reader as chaos is.
Sa tagalog, walang basagan ng trip.