Try to piece together Uman as chunks but with a narrative thread like Chatwin did in the essay a while ago.
They cut the trees on this dirt road. The small ones and the big. A black kite is hovering above like a lawin. A kuliglig is about to pass. On it, wood. Cut wood. Fuel for the owner. Will this be another dirt road to lose this year? Looks like it.
Cuttings revealed some accumulated trash. Some children are playing, running on the middle of the field. A karaoke singer sings an Asin song on Nature. Some cows are grazing on what looks like dried grass.
Devil’s needle flies around over some water left on the irrigation canal.
The children playing on the field are those controlling the black kite. Some goats are grazing too.
This is a massacre of trees. Some look like 10-15 years old. Some probably more. A pied fantail is perched on a tree cadavre. It flies low as I passed by.
Some iron structures are already built lying on the side of the road. I think they are cementing the road as well as the irrigation system. About time for farmers. But so long for us walkers.
Here’s a poem idea: write a poem detailing the process of ending the life of a dirt road. Buhay para sa magsasaka. Kamatayan sa mga puno’t naglalakad na manunulat.
People are not used to someone walking alone with the bike on the side. He thought I was drunk. What was his name? Domeng?
Why does the frog hop then stop? Why doesnt it go straight to where it has to go?
The big brown bird of my past walks is here. I can hear it. As well as the siklings. The sound of crickets are here too.
I am thinking about starting a self-directed fellowship with some artist friends. It involves spending some time together reading other people’s work. Since all are rough drafts there is no reason to down anyone. We just have to give community and other eyes.