Coleridge: Poems

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."

Caught in a ruthless conspiracy, Maisie Vanderbilt lost her chastity and was forced to move out of her home. Six years later, she returned to the country with three little rugrats tagging along, ready for revenge. To her surprise, her adorable angels turned out to be much more resourceful than herself. They tracked down their birth father, a man powerful enough to protect her, and had him kidnapped. “Mommy, we kidnapped Daddy and brought him home!” The man gazed down at the three miniature versions of himself. Then, he backed her up against the corner of the wall. With a brow raised, he suddenly smirked. “Since we already have three, how about another?” Maisie retorted, “Scr*w you!”

As they stood atop a cliff, the kidnapper held a knife to her throat, and the throat of his dream girl. “You can choose only one.”“I choose her,” the man said, pointing to his dream girl.Stella’s voice trembled as she said, “Weston… I’m pregnant.”Weston looked at her indifferently. “Gwen has a fear of heights.”Many years passed after that.Rumor had it that Ahn City’s prestigious Mr. Weston Ford was always lingering outside the house of his ex-wife, even breaking boundaries to pamper her, even if she would never bat an eyelid at him.Rumor had it that the night Stella brought a man home with her, Weston almost died at her door. Everyone was envious of Stella, but she smiled politely and said, “Don’t die at my door. I fear germs.”

Set up by her husband’s muse, Sylvia Ross received the divorce papers while she was pregnant. She did not try to salvage the marriage because not only did he have her slapped sixty times but he even tried to take her child away!“Odell Carter, have you never loved me at all throughout these years?” she asked.His reply was uncaring and cruel. ”I’ve only ever felt nothing but hatred for you.”Three years later, Sylvia Ross was born anew after the baptism by fire. She returned to Westchester City with the daughter whose existence she kept secret all this time.Upon encountering her again, Odell tried to force himself into her life. “Let’s get married.”Sylvia could only chuckle. “Sorry, that ship has sailed.”

Annie Davis was beyond furious when she was told she had been inseminated with the wrong sperm which belonged to a Billionaire who insists he wants to be in her life and the baby's life if she falls pregnant.........