爹deh

that yellow morning i was

delivered, to you, to your arms,

you pitied all the daughterless men.

the ones at the gambling house,

cigarette-stained and roughened, saying

“daughters slender as rice stalks

are no use in the fields.”

them paupers like you had mouths to feed,

crying, sucking,

screaming mouths

that would better not be a waste of good rice.

but after two sons,

that one yellow morning,

you pitied all the daughterless men as you

held my tiny creature body to the

hollow of your neck.

To read the rest of this article, and to access all Mekong Review content, please subscribe.