THE DONKEY

Back to the homeland of my ancestors

Brought by the death of a family member

Distant and relative

Never felt more liberated though

I was definitely in my element

From the time we ran down the hills

Me and my aunt and my grandmother

To get back home to take a shit, one by one

Because the curry hit that damn good

To the overwhelming, massive street party

That broke eardrums and shook my soul

The island humidity

Beef patties made like they're supposed to

With truly golden crust

And to top it all off,

the traces of exported American capitalism

Then comes and swoops in the funeral

Everyone talking in their circles just to fill up space

Everyone was wearing some kind of mask

Flat in the casket

The carcass of a face belonging to a man who I never met

My mom talked about him here and there

Had a mansion in the suburbs, affluent guy

On his resume reads

Lawyer, Alcoholic, Adulterer, Chronic Smoker

And irreplaceable family man

At least he had a family

To leave a legacy to reflect upon

I certainly fell in my bag a little

The good, the bad, and the ugly

I miss that whole experience

Part of a past life from ages ago

I never felt like I had family more than I did then

The rest of my life has been a uphill battle

Struggling to compensate and find something better

In times of self-imposed depression

I dig deep into the capsule of my heart

And remember an unordinary beacon of light

Back there, in that past life,

Storming up the rocky terrain

On the tail of my mother

She turns to look down some long straw leaves, into a meadow

Long behold

A donkey sniffs the flowers, and stands in place

We weren't the richest; we've never been anything close to such

Clinched in his mouth

Laid a ripe, juicy red apple

The donkey carries a token of its own, simple and sweet