Philip Clark recalls a combative father, and the unintended lessons learned about men and love.
—
Learning
Put up your fists
my father said.
And so I did.
So I have been
ever since;
I’ve won
nothing, gained
less.
Blood weary, well worn,
I resist what I can.
Father, what did you think
I would learn?
That the heart,
with an uppercut
had fists in return?
The swarm cheers
the down-turned thumb.
Be a man, he said.
And so I’ve tried.
Fight like a man, he said.
I’ve loved men like a man,
instead.
***
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