The Best Time

six p.m. is the best time
to find you, when you sit upon
a fallen tree
drifting upon the oceans
of your self-pity,

six p.m. is my best time too
to feed myself
with hope, when the rest of you
are inching steps
towards the
Dipolog cemetery

the people there are zombies
walking to and fro
like metallic pendulums with
their bob heads
unwavering for the possibilities
of life's
compromises