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Archive

It's Saturday. Ma drops the needle

It’s Saturday. Ma drops the needle on a Percy Sledge LP and we scrub, wipe, clean the old place; the stewing curry punctuating the air.

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Bro, I love you

Bro, I love you—this is selfish ’cause it’s you in there—but it hurts to raise my hands to plexiglass & only see the sweat of your palms.

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In the stacks there are no slaps

In the stacks there are no slaps & sucking of teeth. Mel & I hide there a lot; words another home for ourselves. But only for an afternoon.

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My brother bent down on a pray mat

My brother bent down on a pray mat that he won’t take with him when he’s deported. I miss him, the new Arabic words awkward in my mouth.

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Stay away. Papa says…

Stay away. Papa says he can die knowing you’re safe. So can I. Come back when the sky & sea can undress, unmolested; all of us left be.

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