403: The Book of Genesis

403: The Book of Genesis

403: The Book of Genesis

This week, we’ve chosen to highlight episodes that take up questions of social justice. The outrage and heartbreak brought on by the killings of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor and other Black citizens remind us that courageous dialogue about racial prejudice is critical to the survival of our culture. And we believe that poetry is a perfect vehicle for just such dialogue.

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The Book of Genesis
by Morgan Parker

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

"The Book of Genesis" by Morgan Parker. Copyright © 2015 by Morgan Parker. Used by permission from the poet.