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? 

WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING

 

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

 

                            —A. Van Jordan

 

 

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