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the sow
by Joseph Legaspi

Her squeal pierces the silence of the Sabbath;
the air absorbs the resonance,
it hangs over the neighborhood.
Children run into our backyard,
collecting among patches of grass, to witness:
a tusked boar the color of smudged mud
riding on top of my mother's pink sow
tied to a post. She leans against a plank of the house, shrieking.
I imagine her backbone breaking at any second.
The breeders tend from the sidelines.
Occasionally they place batons under the boar's weight
to lift the swine and vary its angle on her.
Around me are children from households
where my siblings and I gather pails of leftovers
to feed to our pigs. We have seen dogs
perform similar acts. We have caught
dragonflies paired like overlapping spheres,
and as time passed, wriggling things appear in ponds.
Neighbors tack signs, and if you stroll at their gates
you'd hear the faint yelping of puppies.
Soon there will be piglets, too.
To feed and to sell.
We watch as the sow bends her front knees,
her wail as much a part of us as the air.

© Joseph Legaspi

| Visiting the Manongs in a Convalescent Home in Delano |
The Red Sweater | The Sow | Three Muses

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LUISA IGLORIA
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PAOLO JAVIER
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SEB KOH
doubt
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JOSEPH LEGASPI
Visiting the Manongs in a Convalescent Home in Delano
The Red Sweater
The Sow
Three Muses

LILAC LIMPANGOG
64-square riddle

TRIFEE MIACO
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sa paglaya ng ibon /
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(iloko version)


JESSIE BADILLO SNYDER
precipice

IRENE SUICO SORIANO
tata dinong
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