Untitled Country Review (ISSN 2152-7903), published quarterly during 2010-2013, features poetry, book reviews, photography, and short works of non-fiction. Thank you for visiting.

Issue 1: Lucia Galloway

Chinese Mother to Her Son

         There is a farmer who uses his tractor as a village shuttle
        in order to earn enough money to buy meat.
                          --Los Angeles Times, February 19, 2000

I’ll sing you a song, Little One,
while I shake out the comforters
and fold them at the foot of our cots. 
You dig with your stick on the floor near the hearth
where the hard ground gives a little.  Beat upon it––
your drum!

Steam swirls off the porridge pot,
and my breath makes little clouds.
I sing for all of us–you in your padded tunic,
your red cap.  You still have pink cheeks,
my Little Turnip!
I sing husband out the door
as yet again he goes to look at the fields,
frost-hard, for signs of thaw.

Farmer Li drives his tractor, scattering
pigeons.  Exhaust clouds hang above the road
with the smoke of our fires.  From the meat
in his soup, Li’s cheeks grow rounder.  This
and that he hauls.  Brings people to our village
and takes them away.  They pay him money.
Husband says they come to teach us
to plant kale and grow cabbage.

Your father does not own a tractor, Little One.
We have no meat to flavor our broth
with islands of fat.  Our soup is cabbage.
Under its pungent cloud my song grows thinner.
Husband says that farmers must keep planting wheat.
If no one will buy it, we’ll eat it ourselves
and raise pigs and chickens. 
What do we care for kale?

Little One, we will not go hungry.
We will yet have meat in our pot!

--Lucia Galloway

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