The First Shower


Ivory soap lathered, your hand,
Dirt-caked & hay-slick, guiding
Mine, trembling & sodden, like
That heifer that slid from
Her mother’s center into
Your arms hours ago. O
My sweet Daddy, such
Tenderness without desire
I’ve not known since, this
Lesson about what
Makes us different—
How to keep it clean
How to hold it
Like a man—

How did you know
I’d never know
How to wield this gift
Like a blade,
When to hold it close
When to turn it loose? 



"L. Lamar Wilson reinvents the memoir in verse with the tour de force of his Sacrilegion."


                            —A. Van Jordan



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