Rong Lee

From an Earlobe

My father shades the uneaten oranges with his thigh
Makes strong tea from seaweed ember tags

Flagging, the shaded lips broke
Tag the blue-toothed evening

Understand, imperial shades wrung states
Ships once tagged the shores

Under a shade stars turned
I burn the seaweed ember tags

Map raking fires, then the white bells
(Someone talking about the exchange rate)

If our raked shells
Could talk

If our raked shells
Could not talk

“From an earlobe”: two rakes,
EKG readouts, talking slippers, an orange.

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