TONY ROBLES

After Alex Tizon’s article "My Family’s Slave" as regards Eudocia Tomas Pulido 

(The Atlantic, June 2017)

Salamat

The rain had just stopped

And I boarded the bus

On the way to

Work

The engine roared

And I sat with

The other passengers

I looked to my left

And saw a young

Pinay sitting next to

An older Filipina

They looked out

The window nodding

Their heads

Salamat means

Thank you, the

Young lady said

(a question yet not a question)

That’s correct

Said the older

Woman

And the younger woman

Spoke of her parents

Who had come to

America in the early 60’s

She apologized for

Not knowing

Much Filipino

I listened, not

Understanding

Any Filipino at all

And the older

Woman got up

To leave

It was nice

Talking to

You

Then she

Was gone

A minute or

Two went by and

The young woman

Began to cry

She tried to hold

It back but

She couldn’t

What could I

Say, what could

Anybody say

Except

Salamat

Means

Thank you

Stirred

“Cooking was Lola’s only eloquence”

The pot of adobo

Has been stirred

It has simmered

A long time in

Silence

Eloquent

Silence

Feeding us

What we want

To forget

What we don’t

Want to hear

What has been

Beaten into us

And out of us

Working hard,

Unrecognized

“Incidental”

Beaten for the

Transgression of

Another

Poignant in

A biblical way

Should we attempt

To attach to it a

Ration of rationale

Back pay

Pay back

On whose

Back 

A gentle yet

Strong back

That bore prints

Of foot like the

Ancient maps,

Weighted down by

The stillness of sun

What do we see

When we ride

What do our eyes

Skim, skip, gloss

Over

Kick aside from

A point of vantage

Or advantage

What shards hit

The eyes when

The light is scant

What is stirred when

Success successfully

Fails you and flails

You against the friction

Of time

What remains

Of the remains

Of all those cut

Out recipes and

Saved newspaper

Clippings and moments

Captured in eyes

And cupped hands

That held all the words

Not said

What remains

But eloquent

Silence

In a cheap

Plastic

Box

Tony Robles is the author of Cool Don't Live Here No More: A Letter to San Francisco (Ithuriel's Spear, 2015). He is also an activist.