Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Aung Khin Myint

National Anthem 21

in striped pajamas
the nation showed up, & sat next to me
he asked for a cigarette
“Maybe I’m getting old.
I can’t sleep.” he said
in the distance we could hear the sound of a train coming our way
in the midst of some darkened apartments
of a sudden he pulled my index finger
& pointed it at his temple
we both went quiet
when we finished our cigarettes
we exchanged good nights
i went back to his room
he returned to my room
in yours truly
insomniac nation

National Anthem 21

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National Anthem 21

in striped pajamas
the nation showed up, & sat next to me
he asked for a cigarette
“Maybe I’m getting old.
I can’t sleep.” he said
in the distance we could hear the sound of a train coming our way
in the midst of some darkened apartments
of a sudden he pulled my index finger
& pointed it at his temple
we both went quiet
when we finished our cigarettes
we exchanged good nights
i went back to his room
he returned to my room
in yours truly
insomniac nation

National Anthem 21

in striped pajamas
the nation showed up, & sat next to me
he asked for a cigarette
“Maybe I’m getting old.
I can’t sleep.” he said
in the distance we could hear the sound of a train coming our way
in the midst of some darkened apartments
of a sudden he pulled my index finger
& pointed it at his temple
we both went quiet
when we finished our cigarettes
we exchanged good nights
i went back to his room
he returned to my room
in yours truly
insomniac nation
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