SELF-PORTRAIT AS TSCHOCKES IN THE BEDROOM MY LOVE & I SHARE
after Charif Shanahan

by antmen pimentel mendoza

If I had forty-eight hours left to live, I would
have one for each year Nanay had. A fact,

in terms of utility and necessity,
good as she is survived by her husband

and two adult children. Online, I grit teeth through
my aunt’s weekly Facebook memorials.

A part of the problem:

Dog bed is my family Red Sea split, a path.
Coke Zero can is the last time I called Tatay.

Swiss Navy is buckled knees, pavement kissing palms.
Cookie jar is attendees spilling from her wake.

Binoculars are Dollar Tree flowers ‘tay wreaths.
Puppet is my wish that she had won (I’m selfish).

Now, ordering bangus sisig with a gift card,
I order bangus sisig with a gift card.