CRAB POTS//Alex Ray

We drop turkey necks and chicken parts down the center
column for the crabs to come pick at. Braided line knotted
twice around the dock railing anchors the wire cage to keep
the tide from pulling it down along the shore line. Soon
enough blue crabs scuttle through the side tunnels to get to
the pink trappings. Three days later we return & with line in
fist, pull the cage back over the railing to expose eleven
angry crabs clattering like a box of disheveled plastic toys.
They pace the length of the cage, climbing over one another;
an avalanche of nervous legs. Their frantic search for an
escape is too little too late. We only keep the good ones
(boys five inches or bigger) and drop them into a white
bucket. The crabs quiet & lay still at the bottom
of the bucket. Even animals know when it’s time to ask for their
final forgiveness.

Alex Ray is a 24 year old, queer poet from Raleigh, North Carolina. They studied poetry at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill and continue to create poetry and music with special focus on queer experience and the dynamics of power. They are passionate about queer representation and hope to contribute to more queer stories sprouting up in unlikely places.