2009 Jolika Fellows: Hanuabada
The big one; the village carved and standing.
On stilts, atop your own ocean.
For fish and children to indulge
Only the plastic factories refuge, dynamites and household debri scare them.
You are comfortable but allow industrial and political power brokers to take your ocean view
But your playground remains after the sun sets.
And your dreams of modernity surrenders to industrialization
promptly casting doubts on your neediness
your expectations evade your sanity
like your own discards; you let go, your land
leaving the nest of your children to the sharks and preying eagles.
For your children; it will be skyscrapers over waters
Forever moving and shaking.
And there’ll be many tongues and dissentment
And if the fish is not enough and plentiful
Your prayers will be long and half-said
Your survival will be under trees and on roads
in the eyes of the scorching sun
and the ocean will be barren and bare.