The Way we Live by Danton Remoto

Bang the drum, baby, 
let us roll tremors 
of sound to wake 
the Lord God of motion
sleeping under the skin.

Of choosing what to wear 
this Saturday night: 
cool, sexy black 
or simply fuck-me red? 
Should I gel my hair 
or let it fall like water?

Of sitting on the sad 
and beautiful face of James Dean 
while listening to reggae 
at Blue Café.

Of chatting with friends 
at The Library 
while Allan Shimmers 
with his sequins and wit.

Of listening to stories at Cine Café: 
the first eye-contact, 
conversations glowing 
in the night, 
lips and fingers touching, 
groping for each other’s loneliness.

Of driving home 
under the flyover’s dark wings 
(a blackout once again plunges 
the city to darkness)

Summer’s thunder 
lighting up the sky 
oh heat thick 
as desire

Then suddenly the rain: 
finally falling, 
falling everywhere: 
to let go, then, 
to let go and to move on, 
this is the way it seems 
to be. Bang the drum, baby.
www.seasite.niu.edu/.../The_WAY_WE_LIVE.htm - Estados Unidos
Pagninilay-nilay;