Penjual-Penjual Roti Lauw

penjual-penjual roti Lauw
memeluk gerobak
di depan pasar yang masih bau amis pagi
menghirup hitam asap metromini
terhentak nyaring besi-besi
pembangunan MRT

enam ribu rupiah
kubeli roti gambangmu, Pak!
kukeluarkan satu setidaknya
dari gerobakmu yang masih penuh isi



Amid weeds in savannah
our feet meet in same direction walking side by side
with laughter, sweat, and heavy breath
this journey we take is to reach the top
where on clouds we stand and cold wind hits our face
as rising sun far in horizon will warm us
and in the mist that slowly moving
our conversation is in sync
talking about anything
joking about life
count 1, 2, 3 as we’re ready to run fast
count 1, 2, 3 as we laugh hard
count 1, 2, 3 as now the weeds are behind us


I am chasing my own funeral
not letting your smile win
the air is somehow cold
and stinging my skin
maybe I don’t want to concede
’cause it feels right
it feels liberating

I hear myself speak but do not know what I said
nothing makes sense
you besiege my head and now
my mind is spinning
so, I just walk away
as rain drops on my shoulder
and then run, run
as fast as I can
chasing my own funeral
’cause it feels right
it feels liberating