Paolo Javier


Two Poems

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(854 am)

Diamonds & pearls.

War of the Worlds.

New York Noise & Iron Chef.

Sliced nectarines & ice coffee.

Rafael Santos.

Filipino & Chinese.

Anything with meat in it.

I take transit.

Los Pollitos Mexican cheese sandwich.

Arrogance, machismo, vanity, jealousy.

My now torn boot cut 1969 Gap jeans.

My SuperFriends shirt.

My new barong.

Palawan Islands, Las Pinas, Vancouver.

White.

Gap, H & M, American Apparel.

New York City most definitely.

Early in the morning & late afternoon.

When I turned five, the
party thrown by my
parents
in our house on 17 Galvez
St, Papa rented a
movie projector to screen
Cinderella for my friends & family.

Quezon City.

The Stanley Cup Playoffs.

Bruna.

Serena.

Tide or Downy.

Pepsi all the way son.

I like to write in the morning & stay up all night.

I’m not telling (my shoe size).

No pets.

It’s my girl’s 26th birthday this weekend.

& I wanted to be the first Filipino Pope.

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