It has been a year since I stopped writing
angry poetry. Until yesterday we dined at KFC.

Just before I could finish eating, I remembered
a video from Youtube. It is Pamela Anderson

speaking for PETA, exposing how chickens
are tortured. I don’t know but at that moment

I felt guilty. How could I ever forget that I hate
KFC? The sad images of crippled birds kept

playing on my head; a montage of merciless
slaughter. Then all of a sudden, like that of

a stubborn multi-media ad, Musa Dimasidsing
popped up in my mind. Probably because when

I think of killings, I can’t help but think about the
heroes and why we never seem to rage against

the villains, their murderers. Whatever happened
to Jonas Burgos. I’m afraid they have already

skinned him or plucked his nails, or picked his
eyes. What do you expect, they’ll treat him better

than KFC treats the chickens? Everyday, chickens
are killed so we may eat. And everyday, innocent

activists, journalists and even artists are killed
so that this filthy regime may live longer and safer.

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