Note to the Temp

Drats! I forgot to feed the cats.
Anyway, should you come early today,
which is as likely as snow in Sta. Rosa,
do not complain if the fried rice is without
margarine, you did not buy
it off the grocery list yesterday
and insisted on butter. I have bathed
the dogs so you won’t have to gripe
that the laundry is piled up.
I implore you not to love me more
than the creases you make on my trousers
(if you hope the jerk in the office gets it).
Please eject the DVD before you unplug
the entire Home theater. Touch anything
in the fridge but my San Mig. Wipe off the rings
on the counter later. If anybody calls, do not pretend –
again, please – you’re my girlfriend. And
don’t ask him how to break the locking mechanism.
Lastly, try not to shred this
as you probably already have told Kuya Ed.

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avatar About Abraham de la Torre

I'm married to a lovely, loving woman who blessed me with two wonderful sons. Poetry is my passion, even if it's on a mood level. Like, I'm a geyser one moment and drained the next. Each outpouring, however, is a personal testament to truth, a poem being empty were it phony. I got the genes from my Dad, who passed away, in 2003, at 77. He was my most avid audience. There are other inspiring sources but Dad was the darnedest. Instead of miss him, I fill the void with verses.

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