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Kartika_Issue15

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QUARANTINE<br />

Henry W. Leung<br />

My feet pound perimeters<br />

into the earth, and I grow old<br />

while the long, imperceptible curve<br />

of the city cuts ahead of me<br />

like a ledge. In the last one<br />

billion years, the moon shrank<br />

a little. Pain travels through me<br />

at three hundred feet per second:<br />

missives from a toxic lover.<br />

My suitcase wheels clack over<br />

every square of sidewalk.<br />

Mountains heave up; I can walk<br />

over anything if I don’t stop.<br />

My lungs won’t fill with stems.<br />

During the Black Death, ships<br />

were kept apart in harbors<br />

for forty days, never more.<br />

Henry W. Leung is a Kundiman Fellow and the author of Paradise Hunger,<br />

which won the 2012 Swan Scythe Press Poetry Chapbook Contest. He is also<br />

a columnist for the Lantern Review, a Soros Fellow, and working toward<br />

completion of his MFA in Fiction at the University of Michigan. His work<br />

has appeared in such publications as Cerise Press, Memoir Journal, and<br />

ZYZZYVA.<br />

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