Sunday Best

Poetry by | May 21, 2017

I believe in Sundays more than I do God or mothers—
More than structures or figures—
My faith in Sundays is tireless, I am a devotee.
Would you agree?
The universe gave us Sundays
To save face
or
To seek forgiveness for the formidable days that follow
A treat after a long stressful week—sweet and satisfying yet desperate
Some days would come to you as a bribe
To shut your eyes and mouth for the day—
to simply live and let live.
Would you believe?
The most splendid thing about Sundays is that
people mind their own business.
Nobody cares about anybody,
even the eyes of bystanders
take their rest-
the world neglects to detect
the amount of melanin
on people’s skin
other than their own kin.

My favorite Sundays are the rainy ones–
Stores closed, streets almost empty, and houses full!
On rainy Sundays, people mind their own business.
Would you confess?
On Mondays, people transform into
vile creatures
That speak with a spiky tongue
They crouch on cobbled streets composed of corpses—
Creatures like these
forget to forgive faultless fellows but funnily
remember to read
what’s
underneath
people’s trousers–
A man-ual, “This is a penis, show respect”,
and something else, I suspect.
Which raises the question,
Would you?
Soon enough, it’s Sunday again and
I’ll be wearing nothing–
Why not? On Sundays, people mind their own business.


Angellica “Ineng” Narvaiza is an activist. She is currently studying BA Communication Arts at the University of the Philippines Mindanao.

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