Poem for a rainy day - Electra!
She killed him.
You killed her.
Who’s to kill you?
Love (for your mother) will.
Poem for February - Flower in the pigsty
Pig is a profane animal, so is woman.
Both bath in the muddy pond.
The temple is pure.
The lord is mighty.
The keeper whistles:
It is time to say your prayer.
The pig squeals, so does the woman.
Both worship in the dirty pigsty.
Feed a pig with greasy leftovers.
Dress a woman with thorny flowers.
They will be dancing happily.
The hair grows, so does the flower in the pigsty.
A womb carries no prophet but babi*.
(Yet, it used to be your little room for prayer.)
*Babi is pig in Malay. The word is often used as a derogatory and racist remark toward Chinese in Malaysia.
Medusa is blind.
The hair grows, so do the flowers in the pigsty.