• Thus is born the people of the red river.

    A postmodern retelling of Vietnam's creation myth.

    ~ À oi, à oi
    Hush baby, sleep baby
    Know your roots
    À oi, à oi

    11:48pm, tù du hospital/ the mountain fairy moans/ is prostrate on the bed/ her bulbous abdomen rises/ falls/ mirrors oscillation between each electrical crest and trough/ green, fluorescent, [beep beep beep] on the blank monitor/ gazes, nonchalant, as her clay-molded legs swell to the size of two cainito trunks/ brimming with sap and milk.

    we all know what she’s here for/ instinctively, she draws one hand up to her belly, while the other/ lies limp on her pelvis.
    but it starts wriggling now/ her knotweed eyes bulge in their sockets as sweat, thick and raw, crawls on her spine/ the mountain fairy jerks back her head of soot-colored hair/ digs nails into shin and canines into lower lip/ viscous crimson droplets trickle down ochre skin/ she counts cracks on the ceiling/ breathes in, breathes out/ each time, they loom larger/ criss-crossed cement gashes spelling out hòng and hà, then sóng, then chét, again and again /chét/ the mountain fairy screams/ feels movements inside her, emanating from this thing/ alien/ not alien/ herself/ not herself/ life tumor writhing between bones/ she/ sweet ripe peach flesh, while it is the seed/ stubborn, rough-edged.

    In the deep deep forest
    four chiliads ago,  
    mountain fairy gave birth
    to a hundred-egg sac
    from whence sprang
    a hundred children

    ready darling/ ready/ eat me/ come out/ feast upon my latent stream of sap.

    the nurse looks at her/ nods, you are shrinking every five minutes/ it is expanding/ lo/ behold/ from her opening slithers a translucent sac the size of a fist, slimey and vagina-smelling/ it crawls onto the floor/ paints linoleum red with placental blood/ drip, drop on white linen/ snuggles up in the fairy’s hand/ no head, no body, no limbs, though if you look closely enough, detach carbonate from plastic/ you might be able to count/ 100 eggs.

    cracked/ a hole /ripped vitelline duct/ eggs open umbilical mouths/ sing back.

    À oi, à oi
    Hush fairy, sleep fairy… ~
    Mai Hoang

    Mai Hoang
    Grade: 10

    Phillips Exeter Academy
    Exeter, NH 03833

    Educator(s): L. Todd Hearon

    Awards: Poetry
    Gold Medal, 2018

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