arab america
by Sophia Al-Banaa
Photograph Courtesy of Sophia Al-Banaa
crab arms push back against the lid,
claws scuttling in the basin of a tin pot, fighting
hot water cooking them to a memory. my father
planted steel cages off splintering docks,
for blue pinchers to float into traps.
tips of his hair curled in south carolina air
& peeled away from his darkened forehead,
sunkissed from cracking open
Buick windows & tops of glass Coca-Cola bottles.
he waited for animals to take the bait,
like a real American.
athan sounds from his khaki shorts, reminding
us of the crustaceans origin––
my father melts butter, bubbling at the stove,
their shells ghosts of places from which they came.
Sophia (@safeeyiah) is a Kuwaiti-American Muslim woman. Her dual identity is intimately centered in what she writes, as well as the human condition as a whole.
She graduated with her MSW from the University of Pennsylvania & has a degree in English Lit from Rutgers University. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Bad Form Review, Versification, aaduna, Rutgers University Writer’s House & Rookie Magazine. She currently lives in Philadelphia.
Edited by Rawa Majdi
Photograph Courtesy of Sophia Al-Banaa