Tracking the storm before the vote(Ode to the Esatern Wind)

O Wild Reming, thou bad breadth of being,
Thou whose unwelcome presence leaves dead
Scores of downtrodden, as if laid for Halloween.
Now come yellow, and black, and pale
(and hectic red's herring?),
Pestilence-stricken multitudes. O no!
Wild as beer-gin-coke, nauseating yet liberating,
Destroyer and preserver. Can’t you see, can you see?

O Uncontrollable! Just as the wave of ’86,
Uplifting as a cloud,
Shower of shredded yellow pages
Like withered leaves strewn
To quicken a rebirth.
But the black rain old and mighty
Lingered—tameless, and swift, and proud.

Thou wild dream of Summer, impetuous one!
Driving my dead thoughts,
Tumults in harmony;
Scarce seemed a vision. Scary.
Echoes of “Cory! Cory!”
“Laban! Laban!”
Now, “Glory! Glory!”
“Resign! Resign!”
Now, the foliage of thy voice
Suddenly grow gray with fear,
While the comrades of thy wanderings
Fall upon the thorns of life; the Nation bleeds—
Its daily bread; hear, O hear!

Ah, nostalgia lapsing, like a soul forgiving
Affecting my reality (as this pediculous parody).
Can’t you see, can you see?
Now where are we? O yeah,
Leaves are falling like my verse
Despoiling themselves
In a vast sepulcher of doom,
Fire and hail will burst. Wow! And . . .

That maize has sprouted, those streams are flowing!
Can’t you see, can’t you see?
My foot, my foot.
Yeah, be through my foot to my unawakened land
The trumpet of prophesy! Now Wild Seniang,
If EDSA II comes, can EDSA III be far behind?