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Creative Writing Mattie Balagat Poem

Misdiagnosis

“Why does oust scatter rabid dogs howling at dust? And justice prolong a gilded melody beyond our grasp?” Mattie asked in this thought-provoking piece of literature.

Written by Mattie Balagat

As with the common flu, we ladle

Chicken soup for our sensibilities,

In heaping aphorisms (CTTO1,

Our nonblasphemous relative).

Why does protest smell of

Smoke and molotov? And prayer,

A vanilla-scented candle? 

The remedy, we preach,

Is to admire the sunlight 

Filtering softly onto the sala2.

So follows the ending of a blockbuster

Where bullets shoot the antagonist dead,

And hunger sits a footnote to human grit.

Let the narrative be continued without its cast —

Else is a headline thrown away tomorrow.

Why does oust scatter

Rabid dogs howling at dust? And justice

Prolong a gilded melody beyond our grasp?

Retreat: to the wounded Body, stripped to barely human, 

By a comment resurrected in glory.

By another crucified with apathy.

We of little faith, barking wildly

From our ivory cages. 

Comfortably

Six feet away.

1 Short for Credits To The Owner.

2 Living room (Filipino).

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