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ALBERT B. CASUGA, a Philippine-born writer, lives in Mississauga, Ontario, Canada, where he continues to write poetry, fiction, and criticism after his retirement from teaching and serving as an elected member of his region's school board. He was nominated to the Mississauga Arts Council Literary Awards in 2007. A graduate of the Royal and Pontifical University of St. Thomas (now University of Santo Tomas, Manila. Literature and English, magna cum laude), he taught English and Literature (Criticism, Theory, and Creative Writing) at the Philippines' De La Salle University and San Beda College. He has authored books of poetry, short stories, literary theory and criticism. He has won awards for his works in Canada, the U.S.A., and the Philippines. His latest work, A Theory of Echoes and Other Poems was published February 2009 by the University of Santo Tomas Publishing House. His fiction and poetry were published by online literary journals Asia Writes and Coastal Poems recently. He was a Fellow at the 1972 Silliman University Writers Workshop, Philippines. As a journalist, he worked with the United Press International and wrote an art column for the defunct Philippines Herald.

Thursday, April 17, 2014


"Cock Crow", Digital Painting by Alfredo "Ding" Roces, 1997

He is the one that I shall kiss: Jesus of Nazareth. ---Judas Iscariot

Who will do it, that His will might be done?
Not he who would deny him before cockcrow,
Nor fearful fishermen scrambling in the dark.
There must be a clean way, hidden from them.

Pilate will not hang him; look, he washes hands
Much like the whore who has just pleased him,
That he might not decree a wicked judgment;
After all, did I not choose the fairest of them all?

The one he has fished out to warm his cold bed
On bivouacs, clean his dirty toes with perfume?
I had to earn the pieces of silver for myself.
Must hie away from this wasted hole of wastrels.

The thief on the other tree proclaimed him ally
That he might be spared by those rabid rabbis.
Fool, he must perish like jackals before him,
Used like rags to wipe these asses’ behinds.

From my filthy ruse then, shall his promise
To save man from perdition become flesh, blood
Of the havoc that shall destroy Satan’s dominion
Over the Paradise that he said he will regain.

I will join my Master then, hanging from this Tree.

04-17-14, Mississauga, Ontario

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