Pinoy Big Brother , The Fucker

Pinoy Big Brother, The Fucker

I have always believed
That real life
Is lived
And not mixed
like herbs and spices
vegetable, meat, salt
baked
then sliced
into little servings
called
primetime

at least, I am happy
for those who have sold
pieces of their lives
for their dream
of recognition beyond
mere ordinary patterns.

They must be happy
Even as they shed
Their tears
That are like
Promises
Written on sand

Perhaps big brother deserves my envy.

of how
Big brother speaks
As if he was the bush
Burning not with flame
And yet whose light
Many wait
In couches, sofas
On cold dirty wet floors
To witness
As if a flick of the remote control
And things go
On and off
In his house.

This is the television series
Of Real life,
Or so they claim.
And if that was a lie,
why is it that so many believe?

They fail to return calls
Or text messages,
the genesis of a variety
of Cancellations and postponements,
Even the spoon waits
For the open mouth
While eyes are glued
To the altar
Where Big Brother’s
Fake fire
Burn.

The television series
Of real life.

While in all the cities
Somewhere in its streets
Beyond the reach of street light
Where sound doesn’t sound
Like sound at all
Someone is waiting
Outstretched dirty hands
Clenching their stomachs
Trying to squeeze away
The cold fire of hunger
Waiting
For a big brother
Or a sister
To take them home
And live real lives.