On the right:

Three girls. One with braces. English. Something about wine. First time drinking.

On the left:

Three girls. All dangling at the edge of the jeepney’s floor. Filipino–Tagalog. One dated twins, Oman and Eman. She’s a playgirl, she says.

I think:

I can make a poem out of this. English? Filipino? Something about cities. Something about the night. Jeepneys. Lights. The Rush. The Quiet. Millennial.


But I’m so tired. I talk in staccatos. Blasé hello’s on choppy smartphones.


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