Okay, great.

Broken Ode for the Epigraph by Tiana Clark.

And it begins with an epigraph, of course, by Erika L. Sanchez, who gave me permission to be this person.

Oh, intertextuality.

Oh, little foyer to my poem.

Oh, little first and foremost.

My amuse-bouche, meaning mouth-amuser, a little glimpse of the meal to come.

And I'm sad to notice that we're just about at the end of our time, but I would love for you to read the new poem that you sent me before we sign out so we can hear a little bit of what you're working on now.

Hi, my name is Lisa Lowe, and I'm recording from Chicago.

This is a section from People Who Look Like You.

You track the proliferation of white male, Asian female couples on the street, in your friend groups, on your Instagram explore page.

"Ha ha," you think when you see one, as if reacting to a bad joke.

You love dumplings and imagine hosting a dumpling-making party where your apartment fills with all the Asian-white couple friends you know, past and present.

A literary hero of yours and her husband could be the guests of honor.

[audience applauding]

Thank you so much.

Thank you so much.

The first song we're gonna play for you, uh, is a song called A Messenger.

Were you just a messenger? I lost a friend, but kept the books that you left me.

Were you just a passenger made to have left? Oh, without you I've been dead.

That's what I tell myself.

[cheering] [applause]