Rice Water Baby

1949

A war soon to arrive

A mother

Who could only feed her newborn rice water

A brother

Who carried her during their journey

Rice water baby

The air thick and humid

Like her little breaths on brother’s back

Threads of yarn pulled taught, their spirits stretched thin

Her cries echoing in their vacant yet hopeful hearts

Crossing the border before it split, fleeing from the tyranny of the north

Only to jump into the belly of a new beast in the south

No matter how hard she pried at its jaws, salvation was just as far But the rice water baby was saved

By that of a prettier monster

Red, white, and blue makeup covered its ugly face

Nothing came to save her now

Lest for her own mental fortitude and determination

The rice water baby never took a day off

Battling monsters and the like

So I came to ask myself

If I can ever afford

To work any less hard

Than a rice water fed newborn

Luke Dougherty, 2024

Poetry