new age

i miss the moonlight on my faded skin
now, only screenlights illumunate them
the cold touch of my window sill, the sweet waves of provincial air
homely sheets and homely pillows
my bed, my table, my bookshelf
watercolor paintings, brushes masked with paint on mason jars i haven't washed

i miss the breeze of open space
conversations with the terrace stars
now, only dim and cloudy skies
barely a star to shine at night
now, the pungent smell of pnoval 
chokes the lungs and air canal
clumped seats during jeepney rides
worn sheets, tables that don't exist
scattered books 
around the measly room
 the pervasive darkness
of my humble dorm.
Reality knocked on the door
unexpected, uninvited
 rubs the mist from my eyes and says
in spiteful tone and gentle rage
"welcome to the new age"