this business
has gotten into your head,
like a trip to Divisoria we took once
and we hunted for the jeepney called “Highway Star” because it had a pile of tapes on deck,
and only a splint of light to see the road,
and its speakers were blasting
the bass lines which you claimed
came from Thin Lizzy, but you only
knew that because your dad was
working in Saudi, and he sent you
this heavy metal stuff along with his
voice tape because he was too lazy
to write you a letter. So now, I’m offering you a ticket of Air Supply for my son’s fund-raising, and you say how dare I offer you a ticket for an Air Supply concert even if it’s free? Even if it’s not going to be a date? Yeah, how dare me offer you? You who cried when I left you, and the radio was playing, “I can wait forever.”
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