Along EDSA—
My journey’s interrupted
By every sudden brake. Stopping
On every street, every traffic light. My life
(here atop the Santolan flyover) is going down
Into the waiting mouth of Cubao. I’m so hungry.
But inside this bus, like rag on a clothes line
Along EDSA where the plants and trees have died,
It’s hot. And humid. My insides are on fire. Sweat pours out
All over my body. A part of me gets left behind with every stop…
Wave the fan! Feverish fan!  Sigh. So much for our hurried lives.
There’s too many of us chasing after; being chased by
Time.   I better buy
Candy and peanuts
While waiting
For the bus to

Move.

 

* * * * *

This is part of the #BiyahengEDSA series of reflections for the Pinoy young professional. Read other parts of this series below:

Introduction
Monumento: Out of the Way ang Idealism
Balintawak Cloverleaf: Entry Level
North EDSA: Ito Pala ang Rat Race
Timog Avenue: I Just Want to Have Some Fun!
Cubao Traffic [Poetry]
Ortigas: Relihiyon, Rebolusyon
Swerving after Crossing Ilalim on a Monday Morning [Poetry]
Boni-Guadalupe: Shifting Lanes
Ayala: Traffic sa Fast Lane.
Magallanes: Divergent Roads
EDSA Extension: Ito ba ang aking destinasyon?
Pasay Rotonda: At the Crossroads