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2023 Academy of American Poets Prize

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P = F/A

by Tope A Larayetan

 

The greater the force, the larger the area of pressure  Where P equals pressure F is force and  A is area   If pressure is force divided by area, how much pressure does it take to break me?   It is what happens when force is applied at the right intersection at the right angle to the surface of  an object. Where the force is being the first child of the Pastor and area is children’s day celebration.  Where I am dancing Cece Winans King of Kings in white holeless pantyhose and gloves, after playing  an over-religious woman in the drama, after reciting fifteen Bible verses from memory, after leading  the children’s choir, after leading the praise and worship after, never missing any rehearsals—   But Daddy and Mommy take us out to eat jollof rice and chicken in Jevinik to remind us of well- deserved love.   Where force is the untraceable rage of teenage-first-child-of-pastor versus somehow-related uncle  and aunties and area is home. Where I slip down the stairs of our Iwofe house while pulling the  bucket of clothes I had just washed, and Aunty U stares at me with emptiness as I nurse my knees in  tears before I fail my WAEC Mathematics exam and with every question about why I am still at  home, I take a few more Pascal (Pa) steps toward the emptiness lounging in my blood, before I burn  many pots of rice, before I refuse to wash the bathroom every two days as Uncle M says to, before I  read a poem in church that was too short and not exciting enough unlike the other boy who also  read one, before I cannot stand myself—  But books hug me close: an escape that meets me where I am.   Where force is the turmoil of a woman-first-child-of-pastor, and area is every day I see the sun.  Where I stumble through intense highs of unbridled laughter and late-night dance parties to mind- flailing where I want to origamize myself — want to bury myself in cold loam — want to hold my  breath to the full version of Bohemian Rhapsody, where my heart beats bass as I obsess—  Am I doing enough?  Am I doing it well enough?  And if I’m

 

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