Bandung

By Doddi Ahmad Fauji |

IN this city of my people gemeretakan Regas. Cheating soot in the air. The streets in bunting: Maternity stall vendors, hawkers, touts, until the one-eyed villain. In the north, the pine forest migrated into the pot. Do you know why even flushing in Bahorok? Crashing the esophagus is baked? And you know, that nest dry ghost disumur-wells.
    Every afternoon until evening lingsir, I have to give alms to the cans of poverty that block the sidewalk. And a butterfly perched on the tip of Braga, decorate the city so semeriah fireworks. Sumbi, custom clothing you loose soil more fertile, farmers have pinned the grain on your crown, so the beads shimmering, golden. True, people say, God made you smile in the morning luminous.
     Now you're naked. Your body a-kara. Full ulcers, where people drink pus. There is a tattoo on your arm. You are addicted?
    Your breasts in the north and south, have been sagging like puncrut hill. Laden spots: cardboard houses, garbage, traffic police who sucks, breech streets, congestion, and so on. I nausea, vomiting, and fainting.
    I still remember, there is a hidden gap in the hills of Dago loose, with lush pine forests and curls. From the navel of the hill, gushing springs, flowing, splitting the heart. That Cikpundung. Bung Karno and the princes of Asia and Africa took off his shoes in there, wanted to savor the cool grass with bare feet who merumbai up to your groin. In the groin of your children packing straw so the camp, making catapults from reranting Moringa. Is it true that everything has been buried and will never return.
    Sumbi, the gap has become agape, cave dizinahi fatherless children: Now you're craving relestat of Parongpong to Pasirlayung, from Padalarang to Parakansaat. From your womb babies berlahiran to kill his biological mother.
    I'll come to you, bring offerings and incense, sculpture and tombs. My carving in stone nisa: Has crashed a city!

Jakarta, 2004

Photo of Vagina's Dewi Persik  
Photo source: djeblogg.blogspot.com