something about to eclipse

one.

almost sixteen minutes before the eighth hour past meridien
which would mean nothing to the man standing on the moon
warming his tapsilog on one of three volcanoes

nothing meaning any less
than bodies spinning constantly so as to appear perfectly
still, or small stringed-together pots chiming in an otherwise
silent wind.

two.

looking up at the sky three times and each unable to deny
the three planes in the same mid-morning route to O’Hare,
could be a daily commute, could be finally coming home
to Grandma’s.

three.

things are looking up
now that we’ve “officially” broken up
with february
(ready to change

Facebook status). finally
the universe is working according to plan
and the prince is still perfectly minding himself
over breakfast.

it is thematic, to look forward.
I guess only unless you have 12 days
taken away in October
there is no reason
to question
the calendarial.

four.

lethal would be Jupiter during a full moon.
but so would any part of space without some kind of mask on.

five.

I don’t know which I am more afraid of, space or the sea.
likely sea—
eventually we can’t help but reach bottom.

which is actually center.
which is the only of us
not spinning.

six.

the body existing on three planes.

seven.















sixteen minutes.

eight.

what if we were still
in the Eastern time zone.

nine.

what if this were all for Entertainment’s sake,
eclipses happening to us like a reality tv show as boring as Pinoy
Big Brother (which you can’t help but watch), only to be gossiped about
in the weekly rag mags, like Star or The Daily Astrologer.
Linda, don’t let me down now.

ten.

water softens air, making eyelashes bat back wet snow with the defrost on full blast.
Nujabes jamming on the radio, don’t say a word
cuz you’re the perfect instrumental to my life to my life to my life

eleven.

let’s make sure we don’t miss it this time. I don’t
know if I can wait till 2012. Unless the days
whipped by in four hours like on Jupiter, maybe then I could
grin and bear it.

twelve.

last and first thoughts of you—I can’t help
it. even just knowing that
somehow the universe bent for us
to share this. I bow respectfully, tap out
the rhythm of two hearts with a pair of dimes
that I can’t think could buy anything but a couple of wings
chased by a pint. think
of a conversation that entirely changed
the orbit of our lives. which by
some standard mathematical deviation
seems plausible in universe-speak. I mean,
even planets may be subject to some kind of
Type II β error. take
a sample. you have four minutes to answer
the next two questions.