Episode 4 of The Source

O to be free at last

you are only a persimmon stranded
on a rowboat sinking, ocean slipping solemn against your wrinkled skin.

The firewood was dry, and burned clean and smokeless. A soft orange.

Witness your father in this white world, withered, without will.

Episode 3 of The Source

Even that night father refused to play the hero.

you grow your own tomatoes now
you smile at your harvest.

I remember you, small one, uncertain origin, lost home

Can dim sum also mean to touch the heart?

Lumuwas ika o magraan dagos |
Get out of the ring, or you’ll die in pain

Six pieces from the Philippines’ Bikol region

I am America for the boy who mistrusts my accent.

Safety is a body with a place to hide in.

The body of wings breeds a body of wings

Changeling, mythical animal, delighting in the chase

tell me why the image of tree bark makes you cry

I know this is a lie because death in America
is not quite so dignified.

Truth be told, I have always been afraid of the other boys.

地球由于欲望而正在发着低烧 | the planet has a low fever from its desires