“Crustaceans,” by Rena Su


Ten legs crawl to the cadence of my vague discomfort 

Shifting the sand and forging their own hourglasses

I never liked crabs, those that stroll the beach armoured 

By a skeleton of dollhouse orange, eyes twin voids

Mother Nature, why do you love the crabs? Why do you 

Sew together crab-form again and again? You churn

The skin and bone and reverse them. You sing an ode to 

The teeth on palms. Oh allow me to plant the crabs in sand 

Each of those sideways steps and let me walk along all 

High and mighty with forward strides.

There is only less fear when I see you in the midst of 

Midnight illumination; in clear panes of acrylic

And tap-dancing to the loneliness of the supermarket 

Hostage in a rubber band and

        it is only then that I feel in control.

About Rena Su

Rena Su is a writer from Vancouver, Canada whose work has been recognized by Simon Fraser University, the City of Surrey, and the Pulitzer Center. Her debut chapbook, Preparing Dinosaurs for Mass Extinction (ZED Press) will be released in summer 2021. You can find her on Twitter @RenaSuWrites