Right Words
Tiny Diapana

Some poems don’t really talk much

instead some sprout limbs and learn to walk

up and down the city with one word

following the other.


Bare

hands, feet

This verse scours the streets to find

what it really means

to be a poem

to be


in this city. One must pay the price

after all, words don’t come so easy.

But play right and words can be won

off a jeepney and its conductor passing by

or teased out of a bottle of Tanduay or

peeled off campaign posters on walls.


Look for those quick, hesitant glances

of those searching love. Wait


listen to the thrum of the sidewalk.


The right words will come.