Noodles

I’m scared at first

when Dad is hungry, Mom.
He won’t eat,
the plate where you put a viand
will immediately land
in your head.

Same as how broken

in our old sink
The shout of my Dad
“Damn! Devil!”
Is there any else you can serve me?
Aside from noodles?

Mom, I still remember this

fresh from me
until now.
The cabbage mixed in the noodles
also the aroma of the seasoning
and the sauted fats of pork
that tangled onto your hair.
Meanwhile the oil-soiled
on your silent weeping
squeezed in our window
on the lemony moon.

Pancit

Group 2

Cinco, Janinne
Espra, Sherilyn
Traboc, Raymond
Felicano, Jean Mary
Alimoren
Camiguin