COMMUTER STUDIES: MAKATI TO MANILA by Justin Andrew Cruzana
M
y legs are in default to walking in a city that no longer remembers agility. This cratered coil of hard earth could make better exits and better homes. On this side of the Metro, I trace my name in the fatty smoke. My hand raised for every passing cab, eager fingers throbbing like a homing device. This is no city. A city that forgets the people inside it is a city that forgets itself. So I look for cracks on the sidewalk with the pale intent to humble. To pry open municipal sins the way it pries open the patience of pedestrians.
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DAPITAN