Rice in a Bowl

 

The night after they told us
about the Holocaust,
my mother served
rice in a bowl.

I sank my spoon deep
into the thin grains
and pretended

that each grain of rice
was a Nazi.

And with each bite
I chomped and
gnashed and
ground

the grains into a paste
and swallowed.

Eric Sribnick
College of Medicine

      
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