This is one of those poems that seemed ready even as a first draft. It practically wrote itself. Gemino Abad once spoke of being in tune to what the Muse is trying to send you, as if you had an antenna that had to be fixed just at the right angle, at the right moment when the transmission is being sent, then KABLAM! The poem arrives on paper as if by magic. You feel more like a transcriber than creator.
I hope the poems in Alien to Any Skin and in my other books will somehow reach more people than I will ever meet in person. That my words will outlive me – go beyond this feeble existence each of us is given for a time.
I’m not in the best of moods at the moment so hearing about a poem being published/reprinted is like being able to breathe again, though momentarily, before the sink-or-swim thrashing resumes. And no, it’s not exactly an uplifting poem, but I do believe it is worth reading.
Maraming salamat, Joel M. Toledo, poetry editor of Philippines Free Press, for letting this poem (and this poet) breathe again.