Bedroom

An ancient PC atop a worn-out stereo system –
All laid, stocked like books, in varnished shelves
Of occupied and unoccupied spaces.
I was on the bed eating buttered popcorn
For a hot night of noisy fan and silent reminiscing.

A touch sensor lamp shed light on the altar
Where incense and candles were lit up as well.
I spilled 4 or 5 pieces of popcorn on bed, and
Picked them up quickly to put in my mouth.
The more summer makes me hyper,
The more I am prone to clumsiness.

No, I do not want to send an invitation
To the ants and bugs just because of crumbs.
If they would pay me a visit, not for a feast,
But to keep me company amidst these dark,
And humid hours as I journey back in time.

Reflections of the past were in my mirror –
A child dancing to some pop music on cassette,
A teen covering up a zit, an adult putting on a coat.
I sat still on my bed watching them grow,
And smile, and pray, and write.

On some evenings, the moonlight, filtered by
Dusty blinds, made me know if the sky was sparkly.
It was not my habit to look through the window;
Only when I heard sirens alarming the streets
And when I checked on my favorite neighbor
To my right whose house has been vacant
Due to eviction.