They say he is my brother.
Of dark brown skin and
curly mane,
he smells of brown earth,
for years living with little water.
Of dark brown skin and
curly mane,
he smells of brown earth,
for years living with little water.
The first time I saw him
was for diarrhea.
The second for schistosoma.
The third for worms and diarrhea.
He smelled of yellow earth
drowned in vinegar and gas.
But I like my brother,
template of innocence, alien dreams.
What is your name? I asked.
I’m Mandoliman, but call me Jim.
And your sisters at the bedside?
They’re Evelyn, Margie, and Jane.
I’m Mandoliman Marancing.
I don’t know my father and mother.
My older brother is a bum.
He got killed over a bottle of rum.
I smell the blood and the rum,
the future of little Mandoliman