Confession of Flies (translation by Eric Abalajon)

Like mosquitoes there is also something that flies whisper.
Always conversing in the slow landing
of their two small front legs.
As if in deep prayer. They have a lot to confess.

They are all over the crumbs on the table
when the door was broken down and the man who just
finished an afternoon of mixing cement was abducted.

They were present in the pile of trash in the street corner
when a young man was forced inside a van who was
simply asked to buy cooking oil in the store.

And even before candles are lighted and the pool
of blood has stained the thin news pages of killings,
they are already there in the corner and alleys, honoring
the bodies showered with bullets.

There is no justice, there is no fairness because
there is no grammar in the hum of the flies.

Kumpisal Ng Langaw

Tulad ng lamok mayroong ibinubulong ang langaw.
Laging nakikiusap sa marahang paglapat
ng kanilang dalawang munting paa sa harap.
Tila taimtim na nagdarasal. Marami silang nais ikumpisal.

Nakahapon sila sa mga mumo sa hapag
nang baklasin ang pinto at damputin ang mamang 
kagagaling lamang sa maghapong paghahalo ng semento.

Naroon sila sa tumpok ng basura sa may sulok ng kalsada 
nang puwersahang ipasok sa sasakyan ang binatang
napag-utusan lamang na bumili ng mantika.

At bago pa man may makapagtirik ng kandila at magmantsa
ang lawa ng dugo sa maninipis na pahinang nag-uulat ng pamamaslang 
naroon na sila sa mga bangketa at eskinita, nagpupugay 
sa katawang tinadtad ng bala.

Walang hustisya, walang katarungan sapagkat 
walang balarila ang ugong ng langaw.