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Who knew the old bird had a tarty past?
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Long after the flowers have wilted
And all grass has faded to brown
A cuckoo sings triumphantly from its high perch
Deep in the forest, another sings back
The parrotbill and her lover have disappeared
Their future and hope
Lost to an alien parasitic
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Now, gazing into Greg’s expectant eyes, the only Chinese word Deepti could summon was kuei. Ghost. Before that summer, her mother flipped through the pages of Maxine Hong Kingston’s memoir every day, as if she could glean magic from the touch of her finge
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