…he did it pretty good


‘ Look! ‘, You said —

toss a bottle of San Mig beer

‘ – me won’t grow old, gangsta! ‘

Thought ’twas some line from 

movie you used to watch, 

we parted when I got my degree 

and went for a job abroad

Last time heard, 

you beaten a man bigger than you

We’d met later, unsurprised

you were on the casket

Broke your neck pretty good on 

summer blanket 

Device your suicide attempt thrice 

‘… Damn ! ‘, I said.’. You comfortable

now ? Gangsta !’

Poured a cup of infused tea

along with herbs now, yammering 

at the taste

battling from early signs of

hypertension and heart disease

munching celery, imagining your 

sarcastic face, 

Your sickening Tony Montana’s 

accent, muttering mother ‘ f ‘ word 

at every end of your dialogue,

puckering your lips, clinching your 

teeth, ‘ mother f…in’ seeee ? ‘

‘ olrayt olrayt…

let me enjoy my tea. ‘ I said

~ To Dempsey, my gangsta bro, friend

and our hit and run epic from an old driver who made his car roll at Quezon Avenue making me laughed when I remembered those days.


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