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Burmese Lesson
In Mandalay my guesthouse hostess
Alice, served sweet milk tea in little glass cups.
“I was an English Professor at University
before they were all shut down.”
I mentioned Aung San Suu Kyi,
Letters from Burma, her eyes darted to the gate,
the song of street vendors wailed outside
her ivy-walled courtyard.
“They listen, the moles,
they know foreigners stay here-
take care with your words.”
Later, a midnight interrogation,
Alice’s high-pitched voice in defense.
Burmese I didn’t understand yet knew
I must hide the book behind
the filter of the air conditioner
while I waited for a knock on the door.
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