Shownotes
Wednesdays on One Poem Only are a double feature: one poem here on the podcast, and one more by the same poet shared on Instagram.
They Built the Wall Themselves
M. A. Dubbs
On any given weekday on the east boardwalk of Port Washington,
you’ll find fishermen of leisure.
Long white beards, shirtless with an all over tan,
crepey skin a canvas of tattoos;
a visual storyboard of his trials.
If you’d ask, you’d learn about the steady hands
that inked him as a kid drafted to ‘Nam.
He won’t say much about the thick bordered ones
he did when he got back.
Just shake his beard and tell you “mistakes.”
Ashes from his cigarette will fall
on familiar burn marks as his lips tremble.
The lake clears the mind,
dampening the sound of everything.
Even the water crashes silently on the storm breaker,
so it’s always still.
A haze, not a fog, rests north of here.
Resting on the horizon like an acoustic panel.
It’s the silence that he seeks
but he’ll bring six fishing rods anyways.
Strap them up in a row along the railing,
all cast close, lines just four feet apart.
If you’d ask, he’d say he’s trying to better his odds.
Ask if he’s caught anything so far and he’d shrug,
tell you nothing good yet
but he wants a big fish so he brought the big rods.
But mostly, he’s quiet.
He rests on a bench or sits on his hams and squints outwards.
Solemn face, as couples hold hands and stroll by,
as a mom pushes her child in a stroller,
as a group of teen boys pause.
They long to learn and touch fishing line,
have an old hand guide their fingers through pretty little lures,
each feathered and glittered with care.
They long for tough stories that were untold until they lent an ear.
There’s a pause for connection
but it passes too quick.
The boys don’t know much yet but they’ll carry this anger home
and it will stay in their chest for years to come.
The old man watches through sleepy eyes,
human lighthouse:
eyelids half open to the boys,
half closed to the water.
More from M. A. Dubbs ↓
Handpicked Wednesday
A new feature where I go deeper into the poem of the day and discuss what made it stand out to me. Watch here on Instagram at @rembrandts.cure.
Support + Stay Connected to OPO
If you’d like to support the show, Substack and Patreon members receive a copy of my book, For My Daughter, along with episodes from the audiobook.
Two poems. One poet. Let the words keep moving.
