“Go! Liar!”, I discovered, is a perfect anagram
for “Gloria.” My apologies to all the Glorias of
the world. My apologies to all the liars too, it is
unfair that I tie you with Gloria Macapal-Arroyo,
peace be with Diosdado. He has such a daughter,
a nasty little liar. She said she won’t run back in
2004, now she’s aiming to stay forever and a half.
It’s useless to list here all her crimes, as one would
finish first naming all the stars before I could be
halfway enumerating. Did you know that all our
blood vessels, if they could be laid end to end, can
cover an astounding distance of about 60 thousand
miles? Here’s more: Did you know that an average
man lies about ten times a day and Arroyo has just
lied a quindecillion times, enough to fill the Library
of Congress in Washington? I could be lying with
that, yes, but at least I’m not stealing from your toils,
I’m not killing your fathers and uncles and brothers,
I’m not abducting your friends, I’m not cheating you
on elections, I’m not a pal of Palparan, the two Gonzalezes,

the two Prosperos and the two Hermogeneses.
At least I’m just a poet, who will never get tired of
juicing some metaphors out of the moon and the sky
and the love that inspires me to hum all the jazzy notes
of hope. Oh, hope! This poor country sees not an ounce
of hope, since there is a hideous soul obstructing the
sheen of the morning. Go liar, go. I’m not shouting
now, I am only begging: throw yourself to the river.
In there, you’ll discover all the sunken paper boats
that heaped beneath the reeking waters of Pasig. Go,
liar go. Give yourself a favor, take a deep breath and
dive. For the river can be twice as forgiving as we are.

previously published by Bulatlat

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