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 Dokhtar-e Amrika-i By Farnoosh Seifoddini December 17, 2002 The Iranian 1 At the dinner table We talk politics I say we shouldn't go to war We are hated around the world. My mother snickers: Akh! akh! Fekr mikoneh Amrika-ist! 2 In middle school with brown skin and toothpick curves their eyes watch me Camel Jockey! Vanessa, with her soft milky skin and gold tinted hair reassures me: you'll bloom in college Everyone will be after you. 3 At some bar he walks towards me two drinks in hand his brow arches over pale blue eyes he asks my name then asks where I'm from I say: the Axis of Evil. 4 In my dreams things aren't punctuated properly I wear Amrika on my head a turban of red, white and blue stars and stripes stream behind me as I ride through the amber waves of grain glide over the fruited plains: on my camel.
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