by Alleliah Nuguid
The keeper of the word held in his palm
a shade-gifting tree, from which fell
a worm that defecated original earth.
Two brothers were called into being
and set to making. They took the earth
fat with worms and scurf and fashioned
the embryonic terrain.
This was before the wild chicken,
ashamed at having been asked,
hid her eggs, once freely given.
This was before the grain of rice,
ashamed at having been seen,
kept to its natural size, no longer
expanding to fill the pot.
This was when men
shed their skins
and were young again.
You’re sitting in the main office of the school, waiting for your meeting. You decide to look through something on the cluttered coffee table in front of you to pass the time. Select some reading material: