by Jared Kubokawa

There’s a whooping dawn coughing blue

three more days ‘til I see you…

 

where coffee rivers pour into that South China Sea 

where the rains come in slow bedrolls and crisp sheets 

where mosquitos laugh and tree frogs bark batik, batik

 

if the snake oilers were bartenders

and the missionaries more tender

maybe the dawn would never surrender. 

 

There’s a whooping dawn coughing blue

two more days ‘til I see you…

 

where everything’s broken and only the old folks speak Inggeris

where theologians walk with a limp singing aku enggai pulai

 

remember the caterpillar waltzing into the cocoon 

remember the bliss of workless afternoons

remember the brackish blackish rabbit in the moon.

 

There’s a whooping dawn coughing blue

one more day ‘til I see you…

 

where I learn to love and eulogize your name—

 

Dearest, 

I long to bury my face 

in that place 

where your necklaces clasp.

You, 

who would become my wife 

and we would share the gift of children—

so does Sarawak speak your name.