What World

Famine towns spring up, 
the farther north one goes. 

Flood towns cascade 
farther south. The diorama 

is a rediscovered art form.
Each boiled grain spared

from a meal affixes moss
to twigs. Once, we had 

windows of scalloped shell.
Once, we had capes of bamboo

leaf. Every street corner had
a tiny bread-shrine whose lights

came on behind brown paper
curtains at the crack of dawn.

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