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For My Father, Who Lives Alone
By Madison Xu
Baba turns fifty alone / in the 6 x 8 box / of our iPad 3 / September on our breaths / seven years coming now / funny how memory / has a way of nebulizing / the hum of radio static / the way you learned English by listening to the Beatles’ / “Hey Jude” on repeat / now white noise / at age ten / we were two continents / sundered by ocean / no more than arbitrary geography / at age ten / I held dawn like a permission / tasted it skin by skin / a mouthful of
Come Closer
The sky goes green with tornadoes, heavy as low- hanging fruit. The deer is carried off the road, and it never got hit in the first place. When the light
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