You Tell Your Father
by Penda Mbaye Z. Smith
before he knows
he says that a man
is like a lion
with a ravenous appetite
a colonial hunger
only blood can
satiate, this new
generation of women
humor in his eyes
want to do it all
themselves, who think
they don’t need
no man yeah alright
he laughs
his long locs grapevines
gently sway as we coast
along the FDR drive
he picks up speed
we arrive in the congested
city cars bumper
to bumper, a man’s job
is to provide and protect
to make sure no one harms
his family that’s why
I love your mother
she knows
when to step back
and let me be a man
i am silent
he wants to know why
i am distant
down the street
a young woman
pushes a full cart
of groceries
in the rain
father,
a man has loved me
he weeps
he says that a man
is like a lion
with a ravenous appetite
a colonial hunger
only blood can
satiate, this new
generation of women
humor in his eyes
want to do it all
themselves, who think
they don’t need
no man yeah alright
he laughs
his long locs grapevines
gently sway as we coast
along the FDR drive
he picks up speed
we arrive in the congested
city cars bumper
to bumper, a man’s job
is to provide and protect
to make sure no one harms
his family that’s why
I love your mother
she knows
when to step back
and let me be a man
i am silent
he wants to know why
i am distant
down the street
a young woman
pushes a full cart
of groceries
in the rain
father,
a man has loved me
he weeps
Penda Mbaye Z. Smith is a Senegalese American writer, educator, and scholar whose work explores the role of pleasure in the search of and movement toward Black liberation. She has received support from the Watering Hole, Sun Valley Writers Conference, and Cave Canem fellowship. Her work has been featured in Huffington Post, Interim Poetics, Root Work Journal, and more. She teaches English at Louisiana State University. She enjoys napping.