Beloved Frank de Limas, Willy Ks,
every time you meet me on the narrow
streets of waipahu or ewa or kalihi,
in wedding celebrations or birthday parties,
in the mortuaries or pharmacies,
in the supermarkets or churches,
even in the schools or cinema houses,
you never fail to ask me about that
There’s not a need to defend ourselves.
It’s impractical, it’s useless!
Yet, I, a typical pinoy dog eater,
considered the most shameful remnant
of this human race, still need to set
this black dog thing in a more relevant
The smell of dog adobo floating lightly
through your aquiline noses is way,
way different from the real feeling,
from the real thing.
May it be tame or wild dog,
May it be trained or neglected dog,
Mat it be smart or idiot dog,
May it be rice-fed or chow-fed dog,
May it be pure-bred or native dog,
May it be yellow or brown dog,
When you roast them, their skin always
turns black anyway.
–Elmer Omar Bascos Pizo, Bamboo Ridge, No. 75, spring 1999