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For the First Generation

We entered the world

gun – fire – work, metal, burning, bleeding.

we, born screaming keep our mouths shut (our mothers safe) we fear a fire bodies scorched

to quiet rage is to die without grave another corpse unnamed

we fear a fire we, already alight not the soot, but the ash: rise, rise afraid, a blaze.

Originally published at JSAAEA

Đỗ Nguyên Mai

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