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Barbara Yien

Of Foreign Lands and People

The day my brother brought me to the pond

of one thousand screaming white swans

it was winter in Akita.

White Space

2 December 2004
Vol. 4, No. 4

A strangeness is amiss. The soup is not puree

of stinging nettle. Where are all the wonderful

varmints? The sneezing turtles? The lace-thonged

fascists? This morning the road north was not paved…

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