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20 Talk Show My mother asks me to adjust the ears on the set. She dictates another letter to the host, asking for airtime on the show for survivors, the one with the telepath who channels the dead and changes their substance into the flesh beneath her bearded iris robe. Each season, she expands to hold the voices she’s collected on her palate. I turn up the volume. The woman is crossing over like a broken helix binding to another backbone. She’s telling the audience that on the other side the physical is replaced with frequency, that there is pattern, but that the peaks, when they fall, do not break. ...

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