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THE FIRST TWENTY FIVE

by John Rodzvilla

after Frank Stanford

​

I was one when bees flew

out of my father:

​

the signature of a doctor,

the money from home.

​

We always left after midnight,

never staying until dawn.

​

Cloud-making shadows float

over the Charles and give it

​

the skin of an elephant and

the syntax of a rhino.

ABOUT JOHN

John Rodzvilla teaches in the Publishing and Writing programs at Emerson College in Boston. His work has appeared in Harvard ReviewMcSweeney's Internet TendencygorseDecomPVerbatim and Bad Robot Poetry

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