They were not under the bed,
nor crawled on the roofs,
but always attack
the least
and the poor—
like students
who cross rivers,
like workers
who stand for hours
in public buses.
They spread fake news
to hide forms.
They eat dreams
so we won’t question lavishness,
to weaken bodies,
collect taxes,
and promise projects
for the good of the nation,
to whom we pay debts
passed down through generations.
Their children get the best—
doctors, cars, food—
while we eat the salt
we once left on our doors
to protect our families
from their coming.
Yet they came prepared
with a kilo of rice
and two cans of sardines,
consumed on our first night of horror
at school,
praying something has been left.
We’re trembling
in plastic bags
that serve as tents
covering our bodies.
They wait to laugh
and showcase smiles and braces,
wearing the purest Barong Tagalog
we paid in full.
They smell fear
in hospitals
and in tents
where handshakes landed.
They taste tears,
drink the blood
of our loved ones
who died from floods,
collapsed bridges—
to vitalize their bodies
with funds covered in mud.
The Aswang is a creature from Philippine folklore whose diet includes human liver and blood. Its victims are primarily unborn children and sick people. The Aswang can also change its shape.
Barong Tagalog is a light loose long-sleeved man’s shirt, the national dress shirt of the Philippines, that is frequently made of piña, ramie, or similar fiber, often embroidered on the collar and facing, and worn with the tails not tucked in.
