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Arlene Ang's poem"After the Flood"Is an undead storyLike ZombiesOr VampiresOf WerewolvesRougarou is the journal's nameRougarou is also the same asloup garou, the wolf monstersWho wander bayous at nightYet unlike ghost storiesThat seek to scare,We are shown death poetically"Underground, the infinite dance of soil around moving insects,the star-nosed moles that played our bodies like pianos"The dance of deathWith the music Played by molesOn our bodiesA dance macabreThat somehow reanimatesWithout revivingthe Dead seeking life"We travel from town to town in search of what we’ve lost:blood, family, hunger, a heartbeat. Like the living, we cannot let go"Can you not feel the anguishThe longing for what was lostCan you not feel the fearChildren must feel as wellWhen walking the bayous at nightKnowing what's waiting for themIn the humid, stalking darknessFor finally how are we the livingTo know how to relate to the deadWho have disappeared into the watersThat can swallow us into their depthsyamabuki
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