The Book of Genesis
Once I was:
lone brown spot
in a garden
of upright stems
They said
what do you have to say
let your dry lips open
let cocoa powder
rain onto our desks
they stared at me
for six days
as if I were a peach pit
as if by lunchtime
I would be swallowed
into the sandbox
like a dream They led me
to a sink made me
wash my hands in cold oil
I was a temple
angels are watching over
they chanted
until I never slept
my eyes turned purple
with guilt and imagination
they never let me eat
the stale body or fill
my ribs with bitter juice
they led me to an apple tree
I swear to God
told me to sit and wait
until my earrings got heavy
and I could see right through
the whole damn city
these days I think
I can find truth in song
as if it started inside me
these days I think
a powdered rock
could save us
cold oils of a stranger’s tongue
and I sleep with
my hands in little fists
tucked close to my chin
this is the way my people
have slept for years
O garden of soiled light
I believe in
different reasons
Copyright © 2015 by Morgan Parker. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 6, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.