Some Thoughts About Mortality in the Tropics

“The Filipino is Worth Dying For”

                                -Ninoy Aquino

A phoenix that dies to give birth to a new phoenix,

Was doused with water in the beginning of the century.

When one falls by a rifle,

Will be buried, in deepest grave,

Not dug by bayonets

But by a dozer.

Not in the foot of a godforsaken mountain

But in the deepest belly of the jungle.

And his grave will be covered with grass

And papers and documents and etceteras

This will serve as his edifice,

Not made in granite or marble.

Not made by a Swiss or a national artist.

What is worth to die these days?

An inch of fame? A part of daily news?

Four sentence in a paper? A topic for a conversation?

Well to occupy in a three minute news portion,

One must kill five people.

An article in a newspaper?

One must run down a pedestrian or smash your vehicle.

To be the topic of news for a month?

One must kill at least fifty.

Then after that?

Papers and documents and etceteras

Pile up, pile up, until the bodies will be hidden again.