Suddenly we stand orbiting a plate, loss
permitted in this street’s witty corner.
He was all my North, the fool.
Where he walked, my toe was gouty,
burrowing fine sand. I see you, sweet disability,
in your shadow a play I performed
up to a mildewed January
by the grave, where my will begins to buck.
I mean, there’s stuff here to be forgiven of,
not merely accidents. We go into a ward
for different reasons. Like how you blow with cancer
and call me crying into the phone.
Daddy
by
Isaiah Adepoju is a poet and novelist. He is the recipient of the Donald E Waterfall Scholarship Fund.
