Décor—The Beach Poems, Day Two

walkerevans-photography-5 (1)
The Beach Poems, Day Two

I am reading Let Us Now
Praise Famous Men
at the beach

because what else? really, would
a poet from South Georgia

tote to the Alabama coast,
right? I pull my whole past,

like a mule, everywhere anyway.
Walker Evan’s photographs

strike me in the head
like a straight-back chair—

a dignified face, a simple iron
bedstead, planks wide as

a short life. And Agee’s prose
pries intimately into

settled notions, like a poem, like
a poem is supposed to do.

Behind me on the cabin porch
hangs a plastic pink lobster,

actually two, a faux casting
net, and a tired sign that says

No Bad Day at the Beach.
Last night, a good rain,

a trilling bird and honest frog
tried to wash us all clean.


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