Poetry: 100 Memories: 003. Typhoon by Bernise Carolino ~ Gunita

100 MEMORIES: 003. TYPHOON

by Bernise Carolino

a few folded panes of glass

separate me from the

rain rush just outside. i can

hear warm voices in the

next room, mom and dad are

home even though it's not

sunday. sister says school's

out. i say okay, bury up in

blankets, but sister says

come see how high the

water is. i say okay. the

water slices the first

quarter of stairs but is

climbing every hour. i say

is that our dance dance

revolution pad floating? yes.

i say where are the

dogs? in the balcony. i say

where is breakfast? the

rice cooker is bubbling

away and we open a can of

spam. mom says after you're

done, help carry up the

furniture. a box of old

comics from kuya's room

i haven't pored over in a

while. glistening giant

wooden chairs. a cockroach is

fluttering save me! save

me! as he flails over

floodwater, but no one saves

him. there is a box of

old comics i must get to, if

you don't mind.

elsewhere, ten minutes tops away,

provident village

sinks.

save me!

but there is a box of old comics

i must read, goodbye.

Gunita