Sunday, August 26, 2012

A Party in Agat

Our Guam bunker still stands after
weathering many typhoons.
Supertyphoon Pamela
tequilla shots and San Miguel Beer
Our beachside home
is common
built to withstand storms
I am not
We slug drinks
in shuttered rooms
gawk through
our unguarded door
gray with a mad wind
Pamela is merciless
the ocean is coming for us
rain pummeling
I am afraid
reduced to a mop
wringing my hands
The bathroom toilet
a whirlpool
flushing itself
Pamela groans
electricity pops
gathering round the radio
rallies us in the dark
Oh lovely tropic ranch
mango papaya banana
plumeria and bougainvillea
my typhoon paradise
This is no party
Guam is a mess
This poem is a sample from a new chapbook project in the works.